Artemis Fowl and the Middle Class Family
by clairesie
Summary: Artemis is made to go on a student exchange and live with a [gasp] NORMAL family. Oh, the horror. And...well, read it and see! You know you want to.
1. Prologue

Hi everyone I'm still new to this fanfiction stuff so if I forget something vital please tell me in a review! Also feel free to say anything else in a review so long as you do review...flames are ok...everyone needs a bit of stress relief sometime! Well yes that is all.

Disclaimer: Well obviously I don't own Artemis Fowl or anything you actually recognise...the Browns are mine though. MINE I tell you! ::clears throat:: that is all.

**Prologue**

Mr & Mrs Brown  
26b Crewe St  
Boughton  
Chester UK

Dear Mr and Mrs Brown,

We were delighted to receive your application for an exchange student from our school. You have been allotted a student at this point, although their participation remains to be confirmed. We enclose their details below.

Name: _Artemis Fowl II_

Age: _14 years_

School Year: _Artemis has been accelerated through the school, and was until recently completing his final year of school. He has left the school in order to pursue his studies independently but remains in contact with St Bartleby's for activities such as these. He would fit in well in whichever year your daughter studies._

Interests: _Artemis's interests include computing, painting, reading and publishing educational works, both on the internet and in hard copy form._

Other Info: _Artemis has been seeing various psychologists recently. It would be much appreciated if arrangements could be made for him to see one in Chester. However, if it does not work out, don't bother to press the point._

_He is a very polite boy from a very wealthy family. His parents and I think that it would help him to make friends and develop socially if he was taken from his normal environment and placed with an ordinary family. If there are any objections or queries, please feel free to call me at the number previously supplied with your information pack._

_Sincerely,_

The Principal  
St Bartleby's School  
Ireland

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Now everybody must review. Well maybe you don't have to review this if you don't want to because it's so short and I'm uploading the next chapter now too. So review that one. Ah, screw it, do what you like, I don't care. Claire will be silent now.

::silence::


	2. Chapter 1

Hi people it's me again. Yes yes I hear all your sighs of annoyance and exasperation. Oh well. Please review this and tell me all the stupid stuff I'm doing and possibly how I can fix it too...or flame me or whatever. I don't mind.

Disclaimer: Guess what?! ::drumroll:: I don't own Arty or anyone you recognise from the books or anywhere else! Surprise of the century! But the Browns are mine.

* * *

"Arty, dearest, please agree with me for once. I know you'll love them, they're delightful people. And it's only for two and a half months. Hardly any time at all. Please, won't you go?" Angeline Fowl pleaded with her son, but to no avail.

"Mother, as much as it pains me to decline your request, I must insist that you drop the matter. Under no circumstances shall I stay with these people for any length of time. As pleasant as I am sure they are, they cannot hope to have the facilities I require to finish my PhD in microelectronics, and I do not wish for my degree to trail on for months. You must understand that my education is more important to me than a petty experience of life with an ordinary family. I am not an ordinary person, nor do I ever hope to be one. Therefore, such experiences can only prove unnecessary and time that could be spent more productively would be wasted on acquiring them."

Always well-mannered, even when giving a flat 'no' as an answer, Artemis looked at his mother, eyes flashing but every other feature of his face displaying the calm impassiveness he was so well known for. As he said, under no circumstances would he stay with an ordinary family for two and a half months. He had been working on this PhD for six weeks now, and was almost finished it, with only one major project to finish. Indeed, it would be hard to come across an ordinary family with the technology and laboratory facilities he would need to complete it. Even his mother had to acknowledge he had a point.

Surely she would. Any second now...

"Artemis I really don't think that's a very good excuse. A PhD is supposed to take several years, and I'm sure it was only just over a month ago you told me you were starting it. Whether you're almost finished or not, I really don't think the examiners will accept it this early anyway. So, I suggest you take a break from your studies and visit the Browns. They are, after all, a very nice family. Why don't you email them and find out a bit about them?"

Artemis thought it would be imprudent to tell his mother that the only people he was interested in finding out about were those he could find by hacking into a major intelligence network such as the CIA. He also thought it imprudent to tell his mother where to go if she thought he would be putting his PhD on hold. And, being in a thinking mood, he thought about the microchip he was designing and how it would be radically better than anything IBM had ever come up with. He smiled.

"Are you even listening to me young man?" Artemis realized that his smile had given him away, and quickly rearranged his features to the indifferent look that he showed so much.

"Why yes, mother, of course. I was simply expressing my amusement at the idea that I would put my degree on hold." Angeline rolled her eyes and frantically looked down the hallway for her husband. He did not appear and she was left to deal with the situation on her own.

"Artemis I am adamant that you spend time with these people. It will be good for...developing communication skills with people different to yourself. Surely that cannot be a bad thing? Surely such diplomacy would be a highly useful skill for your future?" She knew she was clutching at straws here, and waited for her son to calmly rebut her argument as he always did. She was not disappointed.

"Indeed, mother, I hope never to be negotiating with such people myself. I expect that my business transactions in the future will be primarily with members of the wealthy upper class; generally civilized members of society, I find, although exceptions are present in any group. And I can deal with them better than most businessmen can in the prime of their careers. As I have said before, mother, and as I am certain I will say again, I have powers of communication equal to those of the best diplomats of our time."

Well. Obviously not one of his mother's strongest arguments of those she had put forward in this discussion. She was evidently clutching at straws, and Artemis knew that he had won the argument. He suppressed a self-satisfied smirk and excused himself to his laboratory to work on his project. The clever young man had, of course, realized that his mother was about to protest, and so was brisk about his departure. Angeline was left staring helplessly at the door until her husband entered, half a minute later, and demanded to hear how the discussion had gone. It is said that the screech of anguish continues to echo around some of the lesser-known and lesser-used rooms of Fowl Manor.

Artemis trotted down the stairs quickly, finally allowing his grin to appear in the privacy of his laboratory. It was, as has been established, difficult to find a better lab in Europe, apart from the really specialized ones which Artemis would take occasion to use several times during his life, although rarely for what they were intended. The boy composed himself and concentrated fully on the project at hand.

He had an odd feeling about how he should be arranging the microprocessors in the chip. Almost like deja-vu, but not quite. He imagined he must have been dreaming about the marvelous technology that would soon be his to patent (before sending it to a university of course) and hoped that he would have another subconscious flash of brilliance the next time he slept. One he remembered when he woke up, too. As they say, the subconscious is vastly better at problem-solving than the conscious mind, and Artemis had gotten himself into the habit of meditating regularly in order to develop more brilliant plans than even he would come up with. He knew his project would be truly great. He just wasn't sure why, or how. Yet. A Fowl was never without the answers for long. Artemis settled himself in a comfortable, cross-legged position and began to contemplate his Armani loafers. They were always a good start for meditation.

::::::Meanwhile, in Chester::::::

Jenny Brown was, similarly, meditating. However, several small but fundamental differences applied. She was meditating on the problem of her imminent music theory exam rather than on how to revolutionize the world of computers. She contemplated neither Armani loafers nor any other form of footwear to begin her meditation session, but said 'Maranatha' at one-minute intervals, having been taught to do so in her religion class. (Incidentally, 'maranatha' means 'come, Jesus, come', hence she learnt it during religion.) And, Jenny had nowhere near the confidence in her own mental capabilities as young Master Fowl had in his. Indeed, she considered herself quite stupid, mainly because she hadn't started studying for the theory exam yet.

Jenny, who had been meditating for the last one and a half hours, slowly arose from her cushion on the floor. She stood up and stretched, feeling somewhat re-energized as she always did after meditation. The problem of her theory exam remained, but she had some idea of how to deal with it. All was well in her world.

Yeah, right. Jenny was a very imaginative girl, and she regularly envisioned this situation occurring as she returned to consciousness. Reality was far, far from that delightful fantasy. The girl almost inevitably woke up with a headache after meditating, she would usually have fallen asleep about ten minutes into the proceedings, and it struck her that she had wantonly wasted an hour and a half in which she could potentially have been studying theory.

Damn everything. She didn't know why she persisted with this meditation thing still. She'd been trying for six months now, and never managed to do it properly. And, she'd managed to waste countless hours in this pointless venture, all of which she could have been spending productively. Such as studying theory. Or doing her theory homework. Or preparing for the theory exam. Hang on... oh well. Insanity was rife among the musos at her school. Wonder why.

The girl got a quick drink of juice from the kitchen and then sat down to work on her theory. Try as she might, she couldn't get into the right frame of mind to write harmonies and she shook her head, defeated. Hoping desperately that she would find herself able to write the thing some time before the exam came, she gave up and went to practise the piano. There was still another week before the test, and her piano lesson was growing frighteningly imminent (3 hours left) and she'd done even less for that than she had for the theory.

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Well there is the first actual chapter. And I know I excused you from reviewing the prologue if you didn't want to, but you'd better give me some feedback for this. Otherwise I may never post any more of the story. Hang on...well lets just pretend that that would be a bad thing, for these purposes. Come on. Review the story. Don't make me use my Sig Sauer. Muhahaha


	3. Chapter 2

Hi people! Well I will answer your reviews now because I love you all so much for giving them!

And no, Arty dearest doesn't have his memories back yet. Although you will find a couple of hints of them along the way. See if you can find them...one last chapter and one this chapter. I promise I'll put in more interesting stuff next update. And Holly will feature in the story. Just as soon as I figure out how...(any ideas please feel free – R&R!!!)

Ahava: 1: thanks! 2: yes I agree 2 is a cool number :) 3: yes I was a bit worried about that and I'll take a bit of care not to make her a mary-sue...please keep reading and tell me if she turns into one 4: yes I can assure you there will be NO romance because I am incredibly useless at writing romances...unless anyone wants some corny cheese – that could be arranged –

hehehe

...sorry anyone who wanted them to get together... : )

Dainie: thanks, I'll post more and hopefully you'll like it more

Chuthulupenguin: well after your second review I'm not sure what you were worried about in my story but I WILL be careful... everyone at my school has to do religion, I'm just being a bit unimaginative, and I guess theory has been on my mind lately...AMEB theory exams tomorrow ARGH well yes. I will be careful about mary-sues!

TrunkZy: thanks for the advice and I'm glad you like it so far...good luck in your exams!

Princess-Perfect: thanks muchly. I just love writing Artemis dialogue it's so much fun!

Chapter II

Artemis Fowl Sr. was annoyed. Annoyed about his son, annoyed about his work, and particularly annoyed by the phone call his wife had just received from her aunt. Aunt Francesca was, while a wonderful person, sometimes rather, well, hard to get on with. And now, she was recovering from 'the op', and she had requested that Angeline come and to bring him.

He wasn't sure what he could possibly do. The fact that Francesca loathed all forms of technology (she even had an icebox instead of a refrigerator) would prove a terrible problem for him, especially with this deal he was trying to arrange. Completely legal, incidentally. He had almost forgotten what it was to be discussing matters openly and without fear of the CIA hacking into his computer at any given moment. It was a great feeling; so relaxing and he could talk about his achievement with people without having to have them assassinated afterwards. Well he'd never had anyone assassinated, but that wasn't the point. No secrecy was required, apart from ordinary discretion.

The eldest Fowl pondered for a moment his situation. He was fairly sure that there was no way he could escape the visit to his wife's aunt's place in Inverness. He wondered what to do with his son Artemis while they were there. Of course, the boy would never agree to go to the Browns'. He wasn't actually invited to Inverness, either. Angeline would never agree to let her son stay at Fowl Manor while she was away; even with Butler around she had become somewhat paranoid about leaving him on his own for long periods of time. So, what to do about the boy? And what to do about the deal? He took a swig of coffee from the mug on his desk, screwed up his face with disgust (it was cold) and turned on his computer. No point wasting time when he could be negotiating with CEOs around the world.

::::::Meanwhile, in Artemis's Lab::::::

There was no way Artemis could have known that, at the very moment he emerged from his meditative thoughts, a girl living in Chester was being remarkably boring in her typically musical way. Artemis, indeed, would not have wanted to know anything about her, and wished that she would stay the hell out of his life. The boy's meditation had been disturbed by the Brown family's appearance throughout the designing of the microchip, and he had achieved nothing in the forty-five minutes he had been sitting on his cushion on the floor. Now he was even crankier than he had been prior to meditating, and what's more had no ideas for his project. He did not trust himself to remain completely civil if he left the privacy of his laboratory, and so began to tinker aimlessly with another chip he was designing. He found this activity good, if not better, for thinking about topics unrelated to electronics, and indeed therapeutic in some cases.

Artemis had been taken out of school three months ago after it had been confirmed that he had indeed written several of the textbooks used throughout the curriculum. The last straw had been one of the boys dobbing him in for possession of two legally acquired Masters degrees in Psychology and English Literature. That, and the principal of St Bartleby's discovering that his self-help books, 'Principles for Principals' and 'The Essence of Pomposity: The Necessary Personality Traits of the Modern Principal' had been written by Artemis (well, Dr. F. Roy Dean Schlippe) and in fact had been dedicated to him. And inspired by him. But he didn't know about the last one. Nevertheless, Angeline had received an email from the school which went along the following lines:

Dear Madam Fowl,

It is with great regret that we must advise you that your son Artemis can gain no further benefit from remaining at St Bartleby's. It appears that we are highly unable to cope with his brilliance and, as much as we have appreciated your many contributions to the Parents and Friends Fund, we must suggest that you take Artemis out of the school and perhaps organise supervised tertiary studies for him. Many thanks for your continued support of the school and its fundraising ventures.

Yours sincerely,

Principal Eric Guiney.

After a lecture from his mother about publishing educational materials without asking, and a few well-disguised grins from his father throughout the lecture, Artemis was taken out of the school and given a tutor. The gentleman in question stayed for about half an hour until he could no longer stand the embarrassment of the patronising teenager proving all of his great theories and philosophies wrong in quick succession. Angeline had been quite ready to advertise for another, but the combined arguing power of the two Artemis's of the family was sufficient to save her the bother.

Artemis smiled as he recalled these events. He really was quite used to getting his own way. Obviously, if he didn't want to go to the Browns' domicile there was nothing anyone could do to make him short of brute force. Funny how that phrase sounded. 'Short of brute force'. Odd. Probably another part of a dream. Strange how he never remembered these dreams, though. But dreams were interesting things, and he was considering doing his next thesis on them. Unfortunately that would involve interaction with other people, supposing he was to do his own research and not base the thesis on the work of other scholars. Which was, as always, an option. But it didn't quite give Artemis the same thrill he got from finding things out for himself. Ah well, he had his current project to be working on for the time being. Future plans could be considered at a later date.

::::::In the Parlour::::::

"Timmy dear, would you come in here for a minute?" called Angeline from her couch in the sun. Artemis Senior had the slightest air of dejection about him as he entered the room; he had been attempting to sneak past without being seen by his wife, as he knew what would inevitably come at their meeting.

"Sit down, Timmy. I need you to think up a hole-proof argument for why Arty should go to the Browns'. They're such lovely people, and I know he'd fit in just fine, and otherwise I just don't know what to do with him while we're away in Inverness. Aunt Francesca won't want him there, she's never liked him much, and we both know he'll practically wither away and die if he doesn't have technology around him. I don't know what to do. We certainly can't leave him here."

Angeline Fowl's voice was, as a rule, birdlike and happy. While she retained a degree of these qualities, there was an easily detectable note of exasperation in her speech now. Her husband shook his head, frowning, and replied,

"I really don't know, Angeline. It's very hard to make him change his mind once he's decided on something. Unless...but it probably wouldn't work. Actually...does Artemis know that he isn't invited to Inverness?"

"No...no, I don't think he does. In fact, I don't think he's aware of the trip yet at all. I certainly haven't told him. Why does it matter? We can't really drag him along with us. It would be awful for everyone involved. Cruel, in fact. And Francesca would never approve. You know how she is about these things."

"Well...you see, if we told him that he had, well, a choice between coming to Inverness and going to Chester, then I'm fairly sure of which he'll choose. He need never know that he couldn't go to Francesca's anyway. And it could be just the...stimulus...he needs. What think you?"

Angeline thought for a minute. It was a good plan. But, they were trying to outwit the great Arty Fowl here. He wasn't called a boy genius for nothing.

"It's a very good idea, Timmy. But wouldn't he know? I mean, as far as we know he has this room bugged and is listening to everything we say. And with all his psychology and so on...well...how good are you at lying? Have you ever tricked him before? I'm not subtle enough, he'd know instantly, especially because I've been pressuring him so much to go to the Browns'.

"Well all we can do is try, dear. It's the best I can come up with, anyway. How about we try at dinner tonight? That should be as good a time as any. Anyway, I must go, I have a web-conference scheduled at twelve. See you later."

Artemis I stood up, gave his wife a quick kiss then walked out and up the stairs to his study.

::::::In Chester::::::

"Jenny! Where are you? Come here please," called Mrs Helen Brown to her daughter. She waited a few seconds, then called again. "Come here please! Now!" Not receiving any response, she stormed along the hallway and knocked on her daughter's door loudly.

"Open the door please!" she cried. Jenny sighed from within and said, "Just a second." She slowly stood and picked her way across the floor strewn with unidentifiable objects.

"Now!" yelled Mrs Brown. Jenny opened the door a crack and asked,

"What is it? I'm trying to study theory," she said. Her mother was always doing this, and rarely with good reason.

"Come to dinner please. Now."

"But I'm going to fail!"

"It's your own fault. You should have been more organised. Come now. Don't you close that door on me!" But it was too late. Jenny had already retreated into her room.

"Jenny you'd better be out of that room before I count to three or I'm coming in! Besides, I was going to give you some very interesting news and if you aren't here when I tell your father..."

Jenny wasn't worried. She knew her mother had lost the key beforehand. In fact... well, the key was missing, and we'll leave it at that. But this news caught her attention. Her mother had been acting weird all week and Jenny was definitely curious. Time to give up on the theory (again) and allow her mother a small victory. Just this once.

She opened the door and slipped out, then walked down the hall and into the dining room.

"I thought you'd come," announced Helen with a smirk. "Well, eat up and I'll tell you the news."

Jenny was all ears as she picked at her soup. Watery pea soup. Shudder.

"Well, David, Jenny. As I'm sure you are aware, I have some interesting news for you. You may remember that I receive a magazine every three months with regard to my profession. In 'Teaching Periodical' one may find many articles, from how to teach a child to hold a pencil to the finer points of Advanced Calculus." Jenny nodded. It was, indeed, a large magazine.

"In the last edition, there was a certain advertisement. It was placed by a school in Ireland called St Bartleby's. They requested families throughout Britain for student-exchanges. It seems that they have a large proportion of very wealthy students, and they were looking for ordinary families for them to live with for a while to get a taste of normal life. I applied and hopefully one Artemis Fowl will be arriving in three weeks. Now, I must be preparing tomorrow's classes. Enjoy your dinner. Goodnight." And she left the room without another word. A tense silence accompanied her departure. Until Mr Brown finished his soup. At which point silence was overthrown.

"Did you hear what your mother just said?" asked David slowly and dangerously. "I don't believe I quite caught it. Did she really say that a rich kid from Ireland is coming to stay at our house in three weeks? I certainly hope my hearing's giving out on me, because if this Fowl is coming to stay in _our _house, eat _our_ food..."

"Dad, don't worry. Actually...scrap that. Worry is not a bad thing. But let's come up with a plan about this. I delegate you to come up with the plan, while I try to prevent my inevitable failure of this stupid exam. Tell mum the soup was great. Well, don't, she'll know I'm being sarcastic, as usual. See you later."

Jenny left the room and returned to her own to study theory. Damn everything, she couldn't concentrate now. This stupid... was it a boy or a girl? She didn't know whether Artemis was a girls' or boys' name. Well, more pressing matters at hand. Theory, theory, theory. Shudder.

And I think that will do for that chapter...was it too long or anything? I have a bad feeling nothing much has actually happened so far... review it pretty please with a cherry on top and lots of sprinkles! And tell me if Jenny is a mary-sue or not...I really don't want her to be too annoying but give me lots of tips and I promise I will take them to heart and be better next chapter!


	4. Chapter 3

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Hi it's me again. I am SO SORRY that I haven't updated in so long. I will do better next time, I promise. Really truly. Well yeah. Anyway, replying to reviews...

boogalaga: why thankyou. I'm really sorry I didn't update, I'll be quicker with the next one...hopefully...

ameliana: I see where you're coming from, with his parents' authority and so on, and I've taken it into account a bit I think. But I think that he was sort of hiding his criminal antics from his parents because he didn't want to make his dad disappointed in him, rather than because he was worried about them being mad. Well, I don't know, but hopefully you won't mind this take on it even if it's a bit different to your own opinion.

UnicornVampire3z: first of all, thanks for all your lovely reviews, they were very nice to receive and useful too I think. so...first things first... ::quails:: I'm very very sorry and I will never use his pet name again without good reason. And I'm sorry about the smile/vampiric grin faux pas, will try harder next time. And it's after book 3, and I'm trying to work Mulch in somewhere and he will turn up soon enough, and I'm not sure what happened to the good Fowl bad Fowl thing. Also I am very happy not to have to use the Sig Sauer... violence is not something I like to resort to unless my brother is involved...

Alice: Thanks very much, I'm glad you think it's well written etc. I see where you're coming from about him going along with what his parents want him to do then fixing it all up when he gets there, and well I can't be bothered to change it now although I will just hurry up and make him go to Chester if that's what you're getting at. And I'm not sure about the student exchange thing, but we'll just say that in Wotzbugl, a universe very similar to that which Artemis Fowl is set, you can have the students go one at a time or whatever. Mainly because I can't be bothered to change it now, also I want them to meet and fight. FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT ::clears throat:: right, well on with the story, I will stop jabbering now.

Disclaimer: oh surely you don't want to hear this rubbish again. You can guess which is mine and which is Colfer's by the utter uselessness of mine. If you can't work it out, ask your friendly neighbourhood hamster. I'm sure they will be happy to oblige.

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Chapter III

"Artemis, you're going to Chester and I'm not going to participate in any discussion. Deal with it."

Artemis laughed.

"Juliet, you should really get into stand-up comedy. Your imitation of my mother is flawless. Except I'm not so sure about the 'deal with it' comment. Not quite her. Maybe a 'off you go, then', or something a bit more maternal next time. Otherwise, brilliant."

Juliet laughed and bowed, then stopped.

"Nah, I'm serious, actually. I heard them discussing it and I know it'll just ruin your relationship with them if they have to blackmail you, so I decided to step in."

Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"And on what basis did you feel it your place to interfere?"

"As a friend. Informer. Ally. Whatever. Just remember, if you want to hate your parents, ignore me."

"Could you...elaborate? How precisely do they intend to blackmail me? You know I've been neglecting my surveillance of the Manor recently, so please explain what you're on about."

Juliet smiled. It was not often that she knew something Artemis didn't, and she intended to make the most of it.

"What do I get out of it?" she asked, trying to mimic Artemis' patented vampiric grin.

"I shall refrain from informing my parents of your habits of eavesdropping." The boy replied smoothly. Juliet rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"Okay, okay. Apparently one Aunt Francesca has asked your mum and dad to come to her place at Inverness. She's like, totally living in the Dark Ages and hates technology, like I heard something about an icebox instead of a fridge, or something like that. Well, yeah, apparently you can go with them to Inverness or you can go to Chester and meet these Brown people. From what I've heard, you _really, really_ want to pick the Browns. Your dad's like, totally pissed about having to go."

"I'm sure I can decide what I 'really, really' want to do. I..."

"Oh, my God! You know that song, it's like 'I really really wanna..."

"_Juliet_! You are undermining my trust in your opinion very, very efficiently. Kindly make no more references to the Spice Girls in my presence."

"How the hell do _you _know anything about the Spice Girls?! No, wait... Artemis likes the Spice Girls, Artemis likes the Spice Girls..."

"BUTLER!!"

Butler appeared in the doorway, valiantly trying to keep a straight face. Artemis, on the other hand, was not in the least amused.

"Kindly subdue your sister, Butler, and explain to her that she will need to maintain a reasonable level of maturity if she wishes to converse with me further." Butler nodded, and led his sister (still laughing) gently away from Artemis' study, leaving the boy alone.

Artemis leaned back in his chair. He really was quite embarrassed by Juliet's insightful comments about his taste in popular music. But, he tried to justify to himself, their tunes were pretty catchy after all. That is entirely irrelevant, his mind screamed. No-one must ever know! _Especially _not Juliet. But perhaps if he could convince her that he simply kept some knowledge of popular culture at hand in case it came in useful... but he knew his face had given him away. Ah well. Revenge would be his, and it would be sweet.

Look what you've been reduced to, his mind admonished. Look at the pettiness that girl brings out in you. Get a grip on yourself, Fowl. You are one of the most powerful people in the world, with your resources and intelligence. Probably the most powerful person under the age of eighteen. And look at what happens when Juliet makes fun of you. You've been sitting here thinking about it for the last five minutes. She makes fun of everyone, why do you care?

Ugh, thought Artemis, I really do need to get a grip on myself. And what about this new information about the Chester issue? If it's true I have to go to Inverness if I don't go to the Browns', well, at least the Browns would have an internet connection.

Look at that, Artemis. Look at that sentence. Your grammar's slipping. Even your mind is becoming a glutinous mush at incidents like this. You're losing it, Artemis, you're...

Get the hell out of my head, thought Artemis. Where did you come from, anyway? Just leave me alone. I'm perfectly aware of every aspect of my being, and I most definitely do _not_ need some random voice in my head at the moment.

So, Chester. To go, or not to go? That is the question.

What a lame cliché. Disgusting.

I thought I told you to get lost.

Ha-ha.

Get out of my head. Now.

But I am your head.

No you aren't. You're a disturbing figment of my imagination.

Then why are you arguing with me?

Because you're bloody annoying.

Yes, well, I am you after all.

Shut up. I'm trying to think.

Just you try and make me.

Argh! Silence!

You're so funny, Artemis. You always make me laugh.

What the hell? If I make you laugh, and you are me, then you'd think I would be laughing at myself for no apparent reason, right now. Which I am not.

Stop picking holes in your own logic, Arty. You'll only depress yourself.

Simultaneously depressing you, hopefully making you withdrawn and, even better, silent. And don't call me Arty.

This strange conversation went on in Artemis' head for quite some time. If there had been a fairy hovering outside his window checking on him, (which incidentally there wasn't; they were all sleeping off one of the many festivals of Frond, this one the celebration of the invention of alcoholic drinks, which they attributed to their deity) they would have seen him staring blankly into space for an unnecessarily large amount of time and sent back word that he'd lost it completely.

::::In Haven::::

The eerie laughter echoed through the headquarters of the LEP. Heads turned and stared at the PA speakers, confused and frightened. Who was this, whose was the laughter ominously resounding throughout the building? Surely it could not be the dreaded Artemis Fowl, for he had been neutralized months ago, although his name still struck terror into the hearts of all faeries. Well, the vast majority. Basically, everyone who never actually met him. But it could not be his laughter, he was gone. For good. So whose was it?

"Foaly! What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you realize you are leaning on the bloody PA button?! Do you realize you are terrorizing the whole bloody LEP?! EXPLAIN YOURSELF!!"

The centaur cringed as Commander Root roared at the security camera outside the Ops Booth. He'd always known there was a reason why he kept that door locked at all times. Wow, he thought, I'm not sure if old Beetroot's ever been _quite_ that colour before. So, to open the door. Or maybe not. Hmm.

"_Open this bloody door donkey boy or I start shooting at this computer thing here!!_"

Foaly's eyes widened as the barrel of a Neutrino 2000 was levelled at the camera. It was actually quite an interesting view, and he allowed himself a moment of pride that the gun's streamlined appearance was never interrupted, even from this angle, where you normally wouldn't be worrying much about aesthetics. Then he remembered the computer and camera at stake, and hastily opened the door.

"Julius! How nice to see you! I thought I heard your dulcet tones reverberating around the Booth. Anything I can do for you?"

"Dulcet tones, eh? We've heard a few from you recently. What the devil is so terribly funny that you felt the need to broadcast your laughter across the bloody PA system?! Do you have anything to say for yourself, donkey? And don't call me Julius."

"Er, PA system? Oh dear. I, er..."

"OH DEAR?! The whole bloody LEP is frozen with horror at this... this cackling, this..."

"How about mirth? I was..."

"MIRTH?! Well, donkey, if you have time for _mirth_ in your schedule, I suppose you won't be needing so much in your budget then."

"Julius! If you must know, today the six months are up. I've been checking dear old Mud Boy's surveillance, his computers, his investments, and... oh hello, Holly. What are you doing here?"

Captain Holly Short had poked her head through the open door, grinning manically.

"Foaly. Just the pony I wanted to see. Do you have any idea who is responsible for the evil and incredibly annoying laughter echoing around the third floor? And what's this about Mud Boy?"

"Captain Short, precisely what are you doing here? The LEP don't pay you to socialise, you know." Root was obviously irritated to be interrupted during his tirade.

"Sorry sir, I was asked to come down and ask Foaly if he knew what was going on. A bit distracting, you know. But what's this about the Mud Boy? Did you say the six months were up? So we'll finally see the last of him..."

Holly trailed off, looking slightly wistful as she did so. Not very noticeably, but Foaly notices everything. Except, of course, when he's left a pile of CDs on the PA button...

"Cheer up, Holly. You've got to admit, he was pretty annoying. Take that kidnapping jaunt, for example..."

Holly glared at the centaur, then said loudly,

"Well, he's gone, and that's the main thing. But what was so funny?"

"Yes, donkey, you can't exactly leave us out of the joke now after you've broadcasted precisely how funny it is over the _whole PA_..."

Foaly started to snigger again. Root began to inflate, and Holly, seeing the Commander, started to slowly back away from the Ops Booth door.

"Fowl's going off to live with normal Mud Men for a bit. And this scene with Juliet... come over here, Holly, and watch it. It's brilliant, absolutely brilliant... any of you ever heard of the 'Spice Girls' ?"

"Yeah, but maybe you should get your CDs off the PA button now. Do you think? And perhaps a quick apology is in order..."

"Donkey, I expect you to show me that video immediately. Does the boy show any signs of remembering the People? You do realise that this is a matter of national security, it's not just some great joke people, it's..."

"Yeah, yeah, we know Julius. The boy's fine. A couple of dreams maybe, and I think he's trying to reconstruct his C Cube, but I really don't think he's going to remember us in a hurry. Come over and look at this though."

Root and Holly gathered around Foaly's computer and watched as Juliet told Artemis what he should do, taunted him about the Spice Girls, and was then led from the room by an obviously amused Butler. The CDs were still on the PA button, and so a second round of laughter echoed through the corridors of the LEP. This time, however, the officers were not worried as they had heard all the dialogue between Root, Foaly and Holly, and also the sound of the movie which had been turned up for Root's benefit. The general good humour of the LEP had improved dramatically and mysteriously by that afternoon.

::::In Chester::::

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god..." Jenny was not stressed. Really, she wasn't. She was just acting stressed to sympathise with her friends who were also doing the exam. True fact. Well, maybe there was a bit of stress there. Oh, what the heck, she was about to explode. She'd stayed up all night studying, and now she was alternating between twitching highs and falling half asleep at _very _inopportune moments. Such as the moment she stepped off the bus and was almost crushed by forty very uptight students as they swarmed off the bus, not stopping for seemingly inanimate persons standing in the doorway.

"Did you study the dances? There's the sarabande, gigue, minuet, gavotte, allemande... and what else? There's one more... or are there two? I am _so_ going to fail this thing..."

Jenny's good friend Anna was even less organized than Jenny was. Some would say that was impossible, but there you go.

"Courante and bourree, Anna. Courante has simple triple time, fast, bourree is fast, simple duple, anacrusis. But you probably won't need to know them, they've asked those two for the past three years, I'm guessing they'll change them for this year. And can you ask someone else next time? I'm not even doing your exam, and mine is heaps harder."

Anna shrugged and walked away. Jenny knew she'd have to apologise later but didn't really care. She needed to pass this exam so she could get her grade eight piano exam certificate, and this was her last chance to do the exam. So no pressure, her mind quipped sardonically.

"Oy, Tim! Tell me about the bassoon, quickly. What's its range?"

This sort of conversation continued until the tense silence brought on by entering the building. The supervisors called the students in, and eventually instructed them to start the paper. As usual, Jenny started off by worrying about how much time she had left, and scribbled everything incoherently all over the page. Then, when she had finished and realising that she actually had another fifty minutes left before she could even leave the hall, she went back and wrote everything properly. Standard protocol for most people, it seemed, judging by the sighs of boredom ensuing ten minutes later. And so to doodle aimlessly on a random piece of paper she happened to have in her pencil case.

* * *

Now, at the risk of sounding cliched... please review!!!! It's really encouraging to know that some people have actually read the story. Even tell me it's a load of ::insert expletive:: if you wish, I really don't mind... at least you read it, and could bother to review which makes me feel special : ) Right, well yeah. I will update as soon as ever I can. Wow, that sounded like Enid Blyton. And no, I have NOT been reading her books in the last, what, six years, so don't ask how I know that. I should really shut up now, hey. Well, goodbye.


	5. Chapter 4

Ack hi I WAS going to reply to reviews but I really can't be stuffed now because this thing screwed up the several essay-length replies I had written... well, not quite that long, but, well... I'll reply to people next update. Sorry about that... urge to kill... rising... rising... falling... rising... RISING... falling... falling... gone. ::sighs with relief:: sorry about that

Well anyway _please_ review because I have a bad feeling that this chapter is screwy and wrong in many ways but I don't know anymore... so tired... hmm. Thankyou to all those people who did review last chapter and all the other chapters... forever indebted to you... especially to the extensive review from Marikili... hehehe well the whole review was dedicated to how much she liked it so I'm very happy : ) sorry, I really am a bit too sarcastic for my own good. Well thanks everyone anyway (no sarcasm there for once).

Chapter IV

::::Fowl Manor::::

"Artemis, we have a proposition for you," the elder Artemis said to his son at the dinner table.

"Yes, dear. We've decided that, seeing as..." Angeline began, but Artemis II cut her off.

"Mother, Father, before you say any more, I have decided, after much deliberation, to comply with your wishes for now. I'm sure you will agree with me when I say that this whole issue is becoming rather tedious."

The boy looked at each of his parents in turn, and then addressed himself to his meal. His father suppressed an audible sigh of relief, although he did relax quite significantly. Angeline, on the other hand, acquired a somewhat victorious look on her face, and her son knew how lucky it was that he was due to leave in only three days.

"So, Tim, how is that business deal going?" Angeline was anxious to start another conversation after the awkward silence they had just experienced. The younger Artemis, on the other hand, preferred to hear as little about the deal as possible. Being entirely legal, it was being done very inefficiently and much of the profits were going straight into the pockets of idle lawyers, and there was nothing that got on the boy's nerves so much.

"It's quite alright dear. In fact, it is exactly the same as it was last time you asked me about it, about twenty minutes ago. But something that I am keen to know about is how our Artemis' project is going. What is it you're making again, son?"

"I had an idea of a machine that can read any medium just by placing the item on top of it, father. It can also detect satellites monitoring a specific area and transmit real-time, perfect sound. I worked out almost precisely how to build it in my head, but there are a couple of parts that I think I must have imagined during my meditation, because I certainly can't find any trace of them on the internet to buy them. A minor hold-up, though, I am sure I will be able to construct the parts myself, given the time."

'Timmy' nodded, interested, and Angeline looked very bored.

"_Must_ we talk of technology at the dinner table, dears? I find it rather leaves me out of the conversation, and you know how I hate to be left out. Let us instead talk of the plans for the various trips we shall be embarking on."

"Mother I am afraid that, on the note of trips taken, I must return to my room and pack. As I am sure you are aware, I leave in three days."

"But have you had enough dinner, dear? Go on, have a little more, it's very nice..."

"I've had quite enough, thankyou. Good evening, mother, father."

And Artemis left to pack his computers, and any clothing which would fit after that.

::::In Chester::::

Helen Brown was panicking. This boy, of wealth and status akin to royalty, was due to arrive in just three days. No, two days, twenty hours, and thirty-five minutes. Jenny and David were no help, they just sat around complaining. What was the point, she asked herself. Still, she'd committed to it now, and had to go through with it. And the boy would be charming. You just don't grow up in such a situation without having some manners. Maybe he would be able to bring the other two around. Yes, that would be it. But so much preparation to do! Can't have the boy thinking we're paupers, now. Although I suppose, compared to him... dear me. So much to be done. Chop-chop, now.

::::In Haven::::

Holly was chatting to Foaly during her break. Not face-to-face, though. No, the paranoid centaur had refused to let anyone in, saying that the computers were in a very sensitive mood today, and might explode. The elf was talking to the camera which had so recently been threatened with a Neutrino, and making very frustrated gestures at it which confirmed Foaly's opinion that he should keep the door firmly locked. Although, he mused, she probably wouldn't be so aggravated if he hadn't locked her out in the first place.

"Foaly, while I'm sure we've covered this before, are you going to let me the hell in or not?"

"Sorry, Holly, but the computers, they're fragile... and your present mood... do you really want a lockdown of the whole of Haven just for the sake of socialising?"

"You've got something in there that you don't want me to see. That, or you've been crying about your secret love for Root. Hey, maybe that would go well on the main noticeboard..."

"_Holly_! You disgust me. You really do. And such underhandedness!"

"Or perhaps the PA system... one of your specialties, Foaly..."

"Shut up right now, you stupid elf, or I'll tell Chix Verbil about _your_ secret crush...over the PA system, if that's what you'd like..."

"Okay, okay. No need for that. (_evil bloody donkey_, she muttered just loud enough for him to hear) Look, why won't you let me in already?"

"Because I'm an evil bloody donkey, as you well know."

"Screw you, Foaly."

"Why thankyou. Well, seeing as you've been so _civil_ about asking me, I might actually tell you why I won't open the door. Then again..."

"Must I repeat myself? Ah well, I will anyway. Screw you."

"Just shut up for once in your life, Holly. I won't let you in because there's something afoot, and I need to keep certain things private from Beetroot. If I open this door, a little red light starts flashing in his office, and he storms down here like nobody's business. Satisfied?"

Holly's face lit up.

"Something afoot? What is it? Come on, you can't just leave me hanging now, donkey boy, that's not fair. Go on, tell me, I won't tell Root, come on..."

"Sorry Holly, can't tell you any more than that. It is, as you know, actually written in my contract that I am required to drive as many members of the LEP insane as I possibly can while I work here..."

"Bloody hell, Foaly. Can you at least just make something up convincingly so I can pretend that I believe you and retain some semblance of reason? Because, you know, if I return to Root laughing manically and going cross-eyed, he _is_ going to wonder about what's going on."

"Okay then, let's see, we've got random militia trying to rally goblins in the southern ghettos. Not telling the general LEP about it because then they'd go off and attempt to be helpful. Subtlety and surprise the main things here, and as I'm sure you know, the LEP specialise in neither."

"...Right... I'll just believe that, then. Or try to."

"Yes, do that, Holly. As you know, it _is_ very much a lie, a complete fabrication with no more basis in reality than the effect Root's anger management classes are having. Remember that it is entirely false. If Root asks you, it is a load of..."

"It's true, isn't it Foaly."

"Er, of course not. No truth whatsoever. As you well know."

"Mm-hmm. If you say so. Probably best that you don't confirm anything to me anyway, eh donkey-boy, wink-wink etcetera."

"Captain Short, I expect that it is time for you to return to your duties, seeing as your break ended five minutes ago and the Beet is coming down the stairs at this very moment."

"D'Arvit. See you around, Foaly, and thanks for the marvellous work of, er, fiction you have supplied me with."

"Yeah, yeah, just go will you? Or else he'll want to come and join the conversation... bad, bad idea..."

Holly nodded and trotted back up the stairs to her cubicle, stifling her laughter until she reached it. She passed Root on the way, but he merely nodded to her and went on his way, to her great surprise and delight.

::::Fowl Manor, three days later::::

"Goodbye, Mother, goodbye Father. I expect to communicate with you when I reach the Browns' residence. If I am unable to do so, enjoy your trip to Inverness."

"Oh, Arty, I'm so _proud_ of you for doing what we asked you to do, and I'm _sure _you'll just love them and..."

"Yes, mother. Father, if you will give my regards to Aunt Francesca, I will be most obliged. Enjoy your stay there."

One almost might have detected a twinkle in the boy's eye as he said this, although of course that would be impossible. Artemis Senior narrowed his eyes very slightly, then wondered how his son knew of his opinion of Aunt Francesca.

"Ah, thankyou, Butler," Artemis II said as Butler emerged from the house carrying the last few computer peripherals that were to join the huge pile in the boot of the Bentley.

"Artemis, I don't know if I really approve of you taking all those computers. After all, you _are_ going to try living in a normal family for once, and most families have never even heard of half of those things, much less own them or have access to them. How about you put them all back and choose just two to take with you? Any two of those things. Here, your laptop, maybe, and what else?"

Artemis was standing motionlessly, frozen with horror at the thought of spending any length of time without any given piece of his computer equipment.

"But mother, I need all of it, I really do. You see, these items are for security, these are for..."

"Artemis let's not get into technology again. You know how I hate it. And..."

"Son, why exactly do you need to keep your computers so secure anyway? I'm sure you told me you were going to give up the shadier business you were involved in. So why so much security?"

There was an awkward silence at this point. Artemis Junior tried desperately to come up with a reasonable excuse, which for some reason he could not think of at all. Angeline had tuned out at the mention of security again, but then realised they were actually talking about morality and waited expectantly for her son to reply. Artemis Senior was silent out of worry that his son had indeed not kept to his word, and his heart was sinking with every millisecond that the boy delayed answering.

After what seemed an age, Artemis II finally replied.

"Alright then. I shall leave all but my laptop and wireless internet connector behind. You are right, Father, so much security will not be necessary now that my less legitimate transactions have been ended. Are you satisfied, Father, Mother?"

Artemis I smiled with relief. Angeline, on the other hand, was ever so slightly disappointed that her son was not going to say something controversial for which she could correct him. Nevertheless, she smiled too, and their son nodded and explained to Butler which items should be returned to his room.

When Butler had left, Angeline frowned and said,

"Arty, dearest, I don't know about you having Butler go along with you. It just doesn't seem... well, most normal people in normal families don't have bodyguards hanging around, and also I don't think the Browns will have prepared anywhere for him to stay."

Once again, the boy was struck with horror. First denied his computers, then his bodyguard? This was just too much.

"Mother, I must beg to differ. I'm sure that Butler can find himself somewhere to stay nearby, and I don't think that Butler would appreciate being left behind. I don't believe he's ever been to Chester before."

Artemis Senior frowned. "Artemis, could you give us a minute?" he said, and his son obligingly busied himself with his laptop.

"Angeline, I'm all for this 'normal family' idea and all that, but you do realise that you could be putting Artemis' safety in jeopardy by denying him Butler, don't you? Whether he's staying with a normal family or with one of the richest families in the world, he's still the same boy with probably the most combined resources in the world, with his intelligence and bank account. Just, well, make sure you know what you're doing. Apart from that, it'll take a fair bit to convince Butler, so I hope you're prepared for that. Here he comes now; perhaps you'd like to discuss it with him then."

Angeline, slightly ruffled, nodded, took a deep breath and turned to the huge bodyguard.

"Butler. We, well, _I_ need to speak to you about a certain matter. Well, you see..."

Mrs Fowl continued to tell Butler that he wasn't to go to Chester while Mr Fowl went over to talk to his son.

"Artemis, your mother isn't going to back down on this one. I don't know if she quite understands what she's doing, but I need you to look out for yourself while you're at these people's place. There has been a company pressuring me to sell them software that they know is of your design, and they may approach you while you are in Chester. These people are dangerous, Artemis, and whatever your views on trading with the shady side of the law, I would advise you _not_ to associate with them. Especially if Butler is not going to be there. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

The boy nodded.

"Thankyou for the warning, Father. I shall do my best to avoid such people... would I recognise them from, for instance, a CIA file? Can you give me names to put to faces? I assure you that, apart from your wishes which you have already made clear, I have never had any intention for my software to be used by the underworld. It is too powerful entirely and could result in destruction greater than even I could foresee."

"I believe they were brothers... Fred and Brian Fenwick, I seem to recall. Also, have you heard of a character called Mo Digence? They were asking me if I'd heard of him, it appears they were hoping to disembowel him. If you've heard of him... well, warn him at your discretion, I suppose. But anyway. Try to enjoy yourself, son."

The elder Artemis wrapped up his serious speech quickly as he noticed his wife approaching. He patted his son on the shoulder and stepped out of the way remarkably gracefully (for a man with a prosthetic leg) as his wife swooped towards Artemis II, arms outstretched to smother him with affection. Artemis I walked over to Butler, who by now had a very sour look on his face, and attempted to console him. Without much success. Butler simply nodded and climbed into the driver's seat of the car to drive his charge to the airport.

Artemis II climbed into the Bentley as soon as he escaped from his mother's embrace, and stared out the window in thought as the car pulled out of the long driveway.

* * *

Well there you go. Sorry about lack of Jenny & Co. but you'll hear heaps more about them... just as soon as whats-his-name arrives. Artemis, that's the one. Goodbye now then. Oh by the way please review, even if you say it's a load of D'Arvit because it means I get a review which makes me happy. And even if you do say it's stupid I will probably agree with you or else have reason to be indignant, another of my favourite pasttimes. Okay, well bye then. 


	6. Chapter 5

Hi guys... I'm heaps sorry I haven't posted much lately, but now its holidays and hopefully I'll be able to write more and so on. And this chapter may well be very crappy but interesting stuff will soon happen, I promise. Or at least stuff of some description will happen. But anyway, I love all of you who reviewed and you are very cool, and the more reviews I get the happier I am, and the happier I am the more I write so post reviews please! Even if they're just to confirm my opinion that this story is getting progressively worse with each additional word I type. You may notice that I reviewed myself in my desperation for reviews... read it, you may find it funny, or you may find it incredibly sad. Probably the latter. Ah well, have fun, and I'll post something vaguely interesting soon. Bye!

Chapter V

::::In a Hole::::

Mo Digence, a.k.a. Mulch Diggums, was a remarkable fellow. He was very, very good at escaping from situations you'd think no person, not even a short one like him, would be able to get out of. One might say that this was very lucky for him, as he now had not only several Mud police agencies after him, but most major crime networks too – above and below the ground. The only people who seemingly weren't after him, ironically, were the LEP. And he knew Root wasn't at all happy about that. So, avoiding them would be a good idea too. That left... one, two... no, number two was dead... so, one person in the whole world who he could safely spend any time with. And that person had an extremely large bodyguard, and didn't even know of Mo's existence. Isn't it nice to feel loved, he thought sardonically.

He was currently residing in a small hole in the ground, in a field a few miles away from (A/N: ...you guessed it...) Chester. He had dug it out himself, and was rather pleased with it. It wasn't Buckingham Palace (although he had considered furnishing it with items from the Palace) but it was home. Well no, it wasn't really home, home was somewhere in Haven. He couldn't remember where exactly, much clearer in his memory was his cell, number 267b in Howler's Peak. Then again, he'd spent a large amount of time there over the last few centuries. So much that the guards were letting him decorate it how he liked it, and it was kept reserved for him every time he got out. A bit cynical, Mulch always thought, but then again it was probably better _not_ to have goblins in there when he wasn't. Awful smell. And that girl Juliet had thought _he _stunk. She had no idea. Ah well. Probably for the best; he could honestly say that his first and subsequent encounters with goblins had all been experiences he could have done without.

Mulch began to plan his visit to Fowl Manor. If his calculations were correct, it was just over six months since Artemis' mindwipe, and therefore time to go and visit him. Precisely how to remind him would be an interesting thing to figure out. If he just walked up to the front door, Butler would probably have him picked out by snipers or some other such friendly greeting, as Butler was so well known for. Probably not a good idea... while his corpse might well remind the boy of his existence, the point of reminding him would be destroyed. So, what else? Hmm...

::::In a Plane: Flight CH38Z2 (departs Dublin 1545h) ::::

"Done," Artemis murmured to himself as he finished version 3.09 of HuntingFowl OS. He was quite pleased with this version, although there was that recurring bug which he would have to develop a patch for.

HuntingFowl had started off fairly similar to Windows XP. Indeed, Artemis had made it by reverse engineering a bit of the Microsoft thing at first. He then however fixed it so that it wouldn't progressively make the computer run slower and slower, forcing the consumer to purchase another within six months of acquiring the first. Of course, he didn't want Dell and so on getting all his lovely potential profits. No, he had better plans for exploiting the consumer. Far, far better. He smiled his vampire smile, causing a passing hostess who made eye contact with him to ram her trolley into a nearby passenger, who howled in pain setting off the six babies who were for some reason travelling in first class. Artemis was not quite as pleased with himself as he had hoped to be.

Artemis wasn't particularly pleased with anything about the aeroplane. He had hoped to be taking his private jet, but no, he had to travel like normal people, with normal people, in a crowded aeroplane full of squalling infants and nervous air hostesses. At least he hadn't been demoted to economy class too, he reflected.

"Can I offer you some orange juice, dear?" asked a hostess, a different one this time. Artemis groaned internally; this was one of the times when he truly regretted his choice not to bulk up as Butler had suggested – people thought he was about twelve.

"No thankyou, madam. I am quite content." (Well, I was until you disturbed me.) If only he could say that. Nevertheless, self-control was an important virtue. There would be time enough for scathing comments later on.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like something to colour in, honey?" She never gave up, did she? He tried the vampire smile. The stupid woman took that as a yes, beamed, ruffled up his hair and almost skipped down the aisle.

"This may have been the greatest mistake you have made in your life," Artemis muttered under his breath, broadening his grin.

The woman returned, still beaming and now carrying a Mickey Mouse children's entertainment pack. She saw Artemis' 'smile' and swooped down on him.

"Why thankyou, madam. I shall do my best to construct a new radioactive ion with these items, although the lack of a nuclear reactor will prove a slight obstacle. I will be sure to tell you of my progress at the end of the flight."

Artemis achieved the worried, somewhat disturbed look he desired from the hostess, and leaned back in his seat, contented, as she walked quickly away. With any luck at all, she wouldn't be returning in the next half hour, which was the duration of the flight remaining. And that would give him sufficient time to think of a suitable revenge. Because nobody except Angeline Fowl touched Artemis Fowl the Second's hair.

::::In Haven::::

"Julius Root to the Ops Booth please, Julius Root, to the Ops Booth, thankyou," boomed out over the PA system. Holly looked up from her paperwork and watched as her commander stormed out of his office muttering black words about Foaly. She wished she could follow, and watch what was about to happen. Nothing but paperwork since the mind-wipe of Fowl, and it was mind-numbingly boring. But she didn't miss Mud Boy. Nope. Not a bit. Only missed a bit of action here and there. Actually, maybe Foaly was going to tell Root about the goblins in the south. That would make sense, really. Hopefully they were going to go and shoot them all with Neutrinos and then lock them up in Howler's Peak for a long time... but then there wouldn't be anything to do after that either. Except of course for a nice lot of paperwork and documentation covering the whole thing. Joy.

"Captains Kelp and Short to the Ops Booth please, Kelp and Short to the Ops Booth, thankyou." Foaly's disembodied voice came over the PA system again. Holly smiled, and looked over at Trouble. He grinned at her and they walked quickly down the stairs together.

"Wonder what old Donkey-boy wants then. Any ideas, Holly?" Trouble asked. Holly shook her head.

"Nope, no idea, sorry. Although he was hinting at something to do with goblins the other day..." The two captains looked at each other and Trouble shrugged.

"Ah well, nothing a couple of Neutrinos can't fix then. Pity, I was rather hoping we were about to be plunged into a terrifying inter-species war. Been a bit dull lately without the Mud boy, hasn't it." Trouble looked at Holly, who smiled and chuckled, but the look in her eyes pleaded him not to speak about Artemis any more just then.

"You're going to have to talk about him one day, Holly," he said softly.

"I know, I know. Just not today, okay? One day we'll get together and have a great chat about the Fowl years, and, you know, talk. But not right now. I dunno, it's just like we're finally letting go of him forever, you know, with the six months up and so on, and, well, yeah. Right. Well, Neutrinos..."

Holly spoke quickly and changed the subject even quicker. If one had been looking very closely, one might have noticed that her eyes were just a little shinier than usual. But no-one got that close to Holly's eyes. Not even the great Captain Kelp. Although that didn't mean he'd never tried.

Trouble, for his part, was feeling rather awkward and rather angry at himself for bringing up a subject which obviously would have kept better undiscussed. Still, he patted Holly on the shoulder and muttered "Cheer up, Holly... old Beetroot's coming..." which he obviously hoped would help. Luckily Holly saw the humour of the situation (that Trouble seemed to think that Root's presence would improve her mood) and burst out laughing. Worse luck for her that Root was just around the corner waiting for them.

"Captain Short! This is no time for levity! Once again, we are facing a matter of national security here, and either you or Donkey here sees fit to waste time giggling! Compose yourself, Short, or you'll find yourself out of a job soon enough!"

Holly stopped laughing immediately and stood to attention. "Sorry sir," she mumbled.

"Speak up, Short, what was that?" Now Root's hearing was gradually deteriorating, but Holly knew it wasn't _that_ bad.

"Sorry, sir," she repeated. She knew he was just trying to annoy her by getting her to apologise so the other LEP officers could hear her.

"Didn't quite catch that, could you say it a bit louder?" Bloody Root. Hope he explodes, thought Holly as she tried to remain calm. Didn't help that Trouble next to her was trying to cover up sniggers by coughing. _Not_ very effectively, one might add. But Root never yelled at Trouble for laughing. Oh, no, of course not. Or tried to humiliate him in front of the LEP.

"I was trying to convey my apologies to you, Commander Root," she said loudly and clearly. From what she knew of the average IQ among the officers scattered around nearby, none of them would ever realise what she had just said. It was brilliant.

"Right. Well, to the Ops Booth then, Captains." He hustled them and Foaly closed the door. The centaur spoke quietly with Commander Root for a few minutes while Holly and Trouble sat on boxes of oh-so-ancient floppy disks.

"Not so deaf after all, methinks," growled Holly to her fellow captain. Trouble laughed silently.

"You know, well, I know this comment might be unwelcome but I've just got to tell you. You sounded exactly like him, you know, the..."

"Yeah, him, what? When was this?" Holly frowned.

"'Convey my apologies'? That's not Holly Short. That's arrogant smartarse Mud teenager."

"Whatever, Trouble. Shut up and try and hear what they're talking about."

Trouble bit his lip, annoyed with himself. He shouldn't have said that about her sounding like Fowl. When would he ever learn to hold his tongue? He had already made himself a couple of enemies in the LEP by his habit of blurting things out randomly. Getting Holly off side too wasn't something he particularly wanted to do.

Commander Root turned to the two officers after his discussion with Foaly. Holly noticed Foaly mouthing 'you know nothing' to her from behind Root's back, and held back a grin.

"Alright then Captains, what we have here is a top secret matter. We need you both to understand the importance of keeping this from other officers. You will of course be held completely responsible should others become aware of the operation. Understand? Good, Foaly, explain please."

::::At a School in Chester::::

"Anna! Do we have choir this afternoon?"

"Jenny. You have known me for three years. Tell me, when have I ever known about anything more than fifteen minutes before it is due to start?"

"Point. Come on, we have maths."

"Yay, maths! Excellent. There's something I've always wondered about that class."

"Such as, what does the rest of the class do while you talk?"

"Yeah, what do they do?"

"Something they call work. You wouldn't have heard of it."

"Hmm. You'll have to tell me about this 'work' thing sometime."

"Uh-oh... I hope she's not checking homework today. Haven't done mine."

"_You _haven't done _yours_... I haven't done any in the last, like, term. When did you last do any?"

"Last test, I guess. And that wasn't even the set stuff, just some random review chapter."

"Hmph. Studying, eh. Not a habit you should get into. It never did me any good."

"Did you ever try in the first place?"

"That is completely irrelevant. Stop changing the subject. I - "

"Shh. At least pretend to listen in the first five minutes."

Anna rolled her eyes and pulled a few sheets of paper out of her science book. She handed a couple to Jenny, who grinned and muttered, "You know me too well."

Jenny immediately began to write upon the paper she had got from Anna. Not maths, though.

'argh that stupid guy artemis is supposed to be coming this afternoon. i bet he'll be heaps annoying and i hate him and all is crap. i still cant believe my stupid mother invited him. plus i have like three assignments to do tonight.'

She passed the paper to Anna who read it and began to snigger slightly.

'there arent any assignments due tomorrow. when were these ones due?'

'one yesterday, one today, and one last week, but that was religion so it doesnt matter if its late. dare i ask how YOUR assignment situation is?'

'i wouldnt suggest it. you might be irreparably disturbed.'

'too damn right. how many are more than a week?'

'believe me, you dont want to know. really. anyway... '

And so the lesson continued in this manner.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

::::Outside the House::::  
The limousine pulled up outside a medium-sized house in the middle of Chester suburbia. Artemis looked it up and down, bored, and wondered how he'd ever been talked into leaving all but two of his computers behind, along with Butler, his supply of caviar, and most likely his freedom too. Ah yes. Juliet, he thought. Lovely girl, but pure evil.

"Sir?" the driver said enquiringly. He had, after all, been holding the door open for three minutes while the motionless boy stared into space. Artemis looked at the man, blinked, then collected his things and got out of the car. He handed the chauffeur a £50 note as a tip (the fare had already been charged to his credit card) and then ignored the man who had begun to perform a strange and somewhat disturbing victory dance. The elder Fowls would never know about the limousine, Artemis thought; no reason for them to find out, and anyway I'm sure they won't care. Their bad luck if they do, too.

Artemis walked slowly towards the front door. He paused for a moment when he reached it, took a breath, and then knocked loudly.

::::Inside the House::::

"Jenny! Artemis is here! Make yourself presentable and _be nice_!" Helen Brown called up the stairs.

Jenny groaned. She had been dreading this moment for the last two weeks, and better yet, when it came she'd just returned from choir practice after a long and infuriatingly boring day at school. Be nice, eh, she thought as she quickly ran a comb through her hair. It was almost funny, how 'nice' she intended to be. The poor boy.

She peeked out the window and saw, to her surprise, a limousine. An airport one, albeit, not a private one, but a limo nevertheless. She heard her mother open the door to the boy and greet him, then say, significantly, 'Jenny will be right down.' As Jenny hopped over the piles of God-knows-what on her bedroom floor and raced down the hall, it suddenly occurred to her to clean her room. Ah well, too late for that now I suppose, she thought as she jumped down the last few stairs and landed in an undignified heap at the boy's feet.

"And this is our lovely daughter, Jenny," sighed Mrs Brown.

"A pleasure, I'm sure," said Artemis, without even trying to disguise his boredom and discreetly moving away from the fallen girl.

"So, you're Artemis Fowl, right? Nice to meet you, I guess," Jenny replied as she climbed clumsily to her feet.

"Sorry about my somewhat, er, inelegant entry, I can assure you that I am not always… well actually scrap that, I am generally this much of a klutz. But anyway, er, yeah. Um… how was your trip?"

"Yes dear, how did you find the trip? It wasn't too unbearable, was it?"

"No, madam, it was not unbearable, although some aspects came distressingly close. On the whole it was no less enjoyable than any other trip I have taken in a public aircraft."

"Ah, well yes, they are quite… well, anyway, dear, are you hungry? I can find something nice for you, and if you tell me your favourite meal I can prepare it for dinner. What would you like, dear?"

Artemis considered for a moment. Caviar would be his obvious choice, but equally obvious was the fact that the Browns would not have any in the cupboard, nor the means to purchase a reasonable amount of it. They weren't poor, but all the same – it would be a somewhat awkward position to put them in. Whether or not this would be a problem for him, he was yet to decide. He eventually came to a conclusion that there would be plenty of other opportunities to make his hosts uncomfortable, and took the easy way out.

"I would be happy to eat anything that Jennifer is partial to, madam. But there is one thing that I must ask of you, and that is to refrain from calling me 'dear'. I must admit that I find it rather demeaning."

Mrs Brown's eyes widened a little. She was not used to the cool self-assurance and formality of this boy – most teenagers in this situation would either be quite withdrawn, or else even more extroverted than they normally were. The sentence 'help him to…develop socially' came to her mind, and she wondered what it could possibly mean. Apart from a little arrogance, which was only to be expected in a boy from his background, he was the epitome of a young gentleman. Right down to the suit, too. Perfectly tailored, and obviously finest quality shoes – probably Italian leather. Lovely young man, she concluded.

"Alright then, Jenny, what do you want for dinner? We have pasta and rice, or I guess we could go out…"

Jenny thought for a moment, and then smiled slightly. A plan had come to mind which was bound to show Arty dearest the true meaning of life at the Brown house.

"Um, whatever, mum. That soup you made a few weeks ago was nice though; can you make some more of that? I think Artemis would like to try it."

"Why of course, darling. I had no idea you liked it so much! I'll start on it soon. In the meantime, would either of you like a snack?"

Jenny shrugged, and Artemis shook his head.

"No thankyou, Mrs Brown; I will wait until dinner. By the way, ought I to call you Mrs Brown for the duration of my stay here, or is there an alternative name you would prefer to call you?"

"Oh goodness, how could I forget! Call me Helen, dea- Artemis, and is it alright for us to call you Artemis?"

Well I'm sure he'd prefer Supreme God of the Universe and Beyond, thought Jenny, but I guess that's not going to happen. Maybe at Fowl Castle or wherever it is that he lives, but not here. Wow, I just can't wait until dinnertime, she thought not-so-randomly, looking at the slight smirk on the boy's face and mentally imitating it.

"Artemis is indeed an appropriate name for you to call me, madams, seeing as it appears upon various legal documents in my possession. If at any point it is necessary for you to address me by another name, I shall inform you of the fact. But for now, would it be possible for one of you to show me a place where I might place my belongings?"

Helen and Jenny looked at each other. Did he just pay us out? Jenny thought to herself. A little sarcastic, though Helen.

"Jenny, show Artemis to the spare room please. You could carry one of his bags for him, too."

Jenny sighed and picked up a suitcase. In books, she thought, someone always says something like 'this is going to be a looong stay'. And I couldn't have put it a better way. Dammit.

::::::In Haven::::::

Holly and Trouble stared motionlessly at their commander. Root had just explained the whole situation to them, and from the serious look on his face it seemed that they were allowed a few moments of shock after his speech, which was, after all, quite shocking. Not many, however.

"Well don't just sit there staring, we need to get on! You two will need just the minimum gear for your first trip; you'll just be doing recon first. Foaly will get you comm sets and wings of some description." Root cleared his throat significantly and Foaly's head jerked up, obviously having been oblivious to the goings-on around him for some time.

"Yes, Julius, the goblins are quite ugly indeed, although I don't quite see the importance of that fact…"

"Donkey, have you even been awake for the last thirty minutes? You blasted pony, don't you even realise…" Root was becoming redder and redder, and Trouble jumped in as the Commander paused to take a breath.

"He wants you to get us comm sets and wings, Foaly. Go before he starts again," the elf muttered. Foaly took this hint and left quickly, leaving Root to exhale loudly and grumble about irresponsible staff and the budget

"Erm… was there anything you wanted us to do while Foaly was getting the stuff, Commander?" asked Holly tentatively. She immediately regretted it, and braced herself for some serious shouting. Which never came.

"Holly, Trouble, I really need you people to think this through and do the best job you can. Goblins on their own we can handle with our eyes closed, but the people directing them appear to be very dangerous. As yet, we don't actually know what they're hoping to achieve by their actions, and that's why we're sending you two in. Find out all you can, then get back without them seeing you. Got it?"

Holly and Trouble nodded, then turned to Foaly who was holding out shiny wings and comm sets.

"Feel privileged, guys. Newest wings off the production line, haven't even hit the commercial market yet. PhreeFoll 2005 SE version 2.7. Designed by me, naturally, and manufactured by Folly Laboratories – they used to be Koboi Labs, but, you know…" Foaly smirked.

"So you've finally achieved a complete monopoly over Haven technology, eh Pony boy? Not bad, except your corporate propaganda is ill-timed at best and at worst, most unwelcome and thereby increasing my blood pressure again…" Root had narrowed his eyes and the purple tinge, which had only just abated, was returning at a fast rate.

"Er, yeah… the comm sets are cool too, make up your own advertisement, and they work pretty much the same as the older ones. Neutrino, anyone?" Foaly continued hurriedly, brandishing previously concealed two Neutrino 2000v3s.

"Did I request guns for the captains? I don't believe I did. Put them away at once, donkey."

"But, protection, Commander? Surely you aren't just going to send them off into Frond-knows-where without even a gun?"

"Yeah, we aren't going to shoot anyone, but having one just in case might be useful…" added Trouble.

"Fine. Take the stupid gun, I really don't care right now. But if you use them in any situation other than a real emergency…" Root left the sentence dangling, but the other people in the room could fill in the blanks without further information.

The two captains took the equipment and left with a 'See you round' to Foaly and a salute to the commander. Foaly, after farewelling his friends, turned to his workstation and began typing frantically.

"What's the rush, horse-man? This had better not have anything to do with our current manoeuvre; I want a smooth operation here," said Root, a slight threat in his tone of voice.

"Well, uh, you know how all their stuff is newest of new, right?" Foaly began hesitantly. "Well, you see, I haven't yet had, er, the chance to, well, program it into my communications database. Stuff has been pretty busy right now, and, well…" The centaur pointedly avoided turning around, but even he could not miss the snorting noises coming from somewhere within fifteen centimetres of his right ear. He winced pre-emptively but no roar came. Only a few very calm words that distressed him more than anything Root could possibly have screamed.

"I will leave you to it then, centaur; I need to review the annual budget. Good morning," said Root, and left.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" cried Foaly once the commander had left the Ops Booth. Not surprisingly, he had again made the mistake of knocking his CDs onto the infamous PA button, resulting in uproar throughout the LEP building. But at this point Foaly, who was now curled up in a foetal position on the floor, couldn't care less.

::::In a Hole::::

Mulch was packed and ready to leave the hole which had been his home for the last few days. He had his favourite jewel, acquired a few months back from a mansion in Portugal. It had its own, probably very pompous, name in Spanish, but he had chosen to call it Ursula, and took it on regular dates. Other dwarves of his acquaintance were familiar with the excuse 'I'm out with Ursie that night, sorry', although they believed Ursie to be an animate being. Some would say that Mulch thought so too, however this would be taken for granted obviously, as they already believed her to be his girlfriend… anyway, the point is, he had Ursie.

He pointed his nose in the direction of Fowl Manor and unbuttoned the flap on his pants in preparation for the journey. At the first bite of dirt he became peaceful, literally at one with the earth, and he travelled quickly through the soil on his way to his destiny. Or so he thought.

::::The Station in Inverness::::

The train pulled slowly into the platform at Inverness and Artemis Fowl the First sighed, resigned to his fate. He was desperately hoping that Francesca wouldn't notice the laptop he had smuggled at the bottom of his suitcase, at least until after he had closed the deal. Family and honesty were all very well, and very important things indeed, but they had to live somehow, and Artemis II would be most disappointed if his inheritance was much less thanthe boy himselfhad acquired before the age of ten. Which left another $30 million for Artemis I to add, and these honest deals weren't quite as lucrative as he was used to – most of the profits went to those blasted lawyers anyway. But all the same, they were considerably less dangerous, he would definitely admit. Far fewer people are assassinated on the grounds of them taking part in a completely above-board and honest dealing with someone. But on the topic of assassination… oh god. Francesca. At the window. Smiling that smile which was yellow and disgusting because she didn't believe in the technology dentists used. Shudder.

"Coming, darling?" his wife twittered, prodding him with the end of her umbrella. "We have to get off quickly, dear, the train keeps going even further north, and I'm quite sure you wouldn't like that one bit."

"I'd like it about as much as I'd like to see Francesca again," muttered Artemis.

"I heard that, Timmy, now be nice and don't you dare let her see that computer! Yes, I know you've packed it, but she'll break it if she sees it, and I'm quite sure you don't want that."

Did Angeline know everything, Artemis asked himself. The computer… it was right down the bottom, and she hadn't been around… ah, suppose it doesn't matter much anyway, he concluded, and sighed again as he attempted to unload the baggage from the racks at the end of the carriage.

"Can I help you there, sir?" asked a young porter who had noticed Artemis struggling.

"I'm fine, thankyou, young man," Artemis replied, straining to lift the suitcase.

"Sir, I must insist – the train has to leave in a minute, and we can't be late…"

"Fine. Whatever. Take the stuff, here's your tip. Thankyou," he said reluctantly, giving the porter an exorbitant tip as was his habit. The man thanked him and carried the baggage easily off the train. Artemis sighed, and resolved to get into better shape – he was almost completely recovered from his Murmansk experience, and no longer had any excuse to be weak.

::::LEP Headquarters, Haven::::

"Hey Trouble, what do you think of the name of these wings?" asked Holly, who had been staring at the wings as she walked down the corridor, consequently bashing into several other people.

"What did Foaly say they were called again?"

"PhreeFoll, but the way he said it, it kind of sounded like free fall…"

"O-kay, whatever, Holly, I'm sure they're fine. Come on, we'd better be off."

"Yep. Comm set for you, Trubs?"

"Thanks… hey that's odd, is yours connected to the network?"

"Nah… oh well, I guess Foaly is working on it as we speak."

And the two elves revved up the wings and flew off over the rooftops of Haven.

* * *

Sorry this chapter was so late guys... but hopefully now I can post more often because I have my summer break OMG I'VE FINISHED YR 10 YIPPEE hehe excuse me. Please review! 


	8. Chapter 7

Hello once again. Sincerest apologies for not updating this in so long, and I'm not entirely sure this chapter will make up for it... but I will become dedicated and write good stuff... one of these days... any time now...

EVIL RANDOM VOICE: don't hold your breath people... or rather do... muhahaha

Anyway, a very merry christmas to you all. Here be part one of my christmas present to the world of fanfiction... and no, you can't return it. Nyeh to you.

**Chapter 7**

::::::In Haven::::::

As they approached the south of Haven, Holly and Trouble shielded and decreased their speed, looking around.

"Got reception on your set yet, Holly? Mine's still not working…" shouted Trouble.

"Nah, mine's offline too. Donkey-boy's probably taking a carrot juice break or something ridiculous like that. Any idea where this place is?"

"Er… over there somewhere. Not sure though. Didn't Root say something about a Gloopy Health Smoothie billboard?"

Holly shuddered - Gloopy smoothies were awful. Even Mulch didn't think much of them, and she was positive they contained some form of dirt.

"Yeah, probably. Wanna just land on that roof and see if we can work out where we are? I don't know about you but I'm not quite sure where I am…"

Trouble grinned and followed Holly down to the roof indicated. He landed somewhat inelegantly which caused his partner to snort with laughter and curse the fact that the cameras weren't working on the comm sets.

"So? At least I'm not _lost_…" he said, attempting to defend himself. Holly sniffed and quickly changed the subject.

Or would have, in an alternate universe where a laser beam had not just shot past her ear, frying a now unidentifiable billboard. Perhaps even a Gloopy one. Who knows.

The two captains fell instinctively to their fronts and rolled toward the makeshift cover an air-conditioning housing would provide. Each pulled out their Neutrinos and looked around for their assailant. To their relief they spotted a security guard jogging slowly toward them. Each unshielded and pulled out their LEP badges.

"Oy! Hands in the air, you four!" yelled the security guard, who was rather old and had somewhat deteriorated eyesight.

Holly and Trouble glanced at each other and shrugged, eyebrows raised, while lifting their hands and holding their badges in clear view.

"What under earth do you kids think…" the guard trailed off, looking rather sheepishly at the two officers. Holly looked mildly amused, but Trouble was less so.

"Sir, you are holding up LEP officers. Kindly lower your weapon, we must be on our way." Trouble said rather haughtily.

"Ooh dear, I'm awful sorry sir, these old eyes, you know…" the old elf stuttered.

"Never mind, no harm done… well, except to that billboard, but I suppose they won't mind that. You might want to lower the setting on your laser though, mate – I'd hate to get in front of it on that setting, seeing what it did to the board…" Holly glanced over to the piece of twisted metal now lying on the roof, still smoking.

"Yes miss, I'll… well don't that just beat all; I can't see the dial any more. Would you…?"

Holly took the gun obligingly and reset it to a mild stun charge. "There you go. You might want to look into some glasses, too, sir." The old elf nodded fervently and took his leave, thoroughly embarrassed. The two captains walked in the other direction, back to where they landed.

"For a moment I thought we might get a bit of excitement there," said Trouble.

"Yeah. Pity about that. That guy got up your nose a bit though, didn't he," Holly replied.

"What do you mean? That's what we're supposed to say if stuff like that happens…" Trouble countered.

"Yeah but… anyway. It doesn't really matter. So, Mr I'm-Not-Lost, where are we? And is your helmet working yet?"

"Nah, not yet. Stupid Foaly. Anyway, I believe we are about five miles west of our target, so it shouldn't take us too long to get there. Shall we?"

And the two officers flew up into the air above Haven once again.

::::::In Chester::::::

Artemis had unpacked and settled in to the Browns' guest room. He had set up his computer and wireless internet connector, and was checking his email as he heard Helen calling Jenny and him to dinner. There was nothing of much interest in his inbox anyway, so he placed the computer discreetly inside a suitcase and went downstairs to dinner.

A strange and not entirely pleasant smell assaulted his nostrils as he passed through the kitchen to the dining room, and it struck him that meals at the Browns' were going to be quite different to the Butler-prepared food he was used to.

"Artemis, dear! I mean, sorry, Artemis!" cried Helen enthusiastically as he entered the dining room. Jenny had not yet arrived, but Mr Brown was seated at the table already.

"David, this is Artemis Fowl. He's the boy from Ireland who will be staying with us for a while. Artemis, this is my husband, David Brown," Helen continued.

"Good evening, Mr Brown," said Artemis.

"Mr Fowl," replied David. Helen glared at him and pulled out a chair for Artemis.

"Artemis, you may sit here. I'd better go and find Jenny, so perhaps you two would like to get to know each other a bit? I'm sure you'll have lots in common – he's interested in computers, David, perhaps you could talk about that?"

Artemis resisted the urge to roll his eyes when Helen suggested that he would have lots in common with this man. In any case, he wasn't keen to talk to Mr Brown, and it didn't seem that the man particularly wanted to converse with him. Nevertheless, Artemis felt he needed to make one thing clear before settling into a situation of passive silence.

"I don't want to be here any more than you want me here, Mr Brown. I have a lot of research to do on microelectronics. Not to mention organise some test runs for my latest version of HuntingFowl."

David looked up despite himself. "What's this HuntingFowl? Surely you aren't one of those geeks who think they're so great because they're programming at the age of twelve and all that rot?"

"I assure you I am not. First of all, I wrote my first functional program in VB at the age of four, a computerized form of flash cards to aid me in my studies of Latin. And HuntingFowl is an operating system, similar to Windows but far superior. Although I suppose I am somewhat similar in the way that HuntingFowl 1.01 was completed when I was eleven and a half."

By this time Mr Brown was simply staring at the boy. He soon came to his senses, however, and replied gruffly.

"You say this HuntingFowl is better than Windows, eh? How so?"

Artemis allowed himself a hint of vampiric grin at this point. "Ah, Mr Brown, wouldn't you like to know. Shall we say that all the bugs are ironed out, and RAM usage is far more efficient, and that there are more than a few features which Microsoft have not yet even considered including in their programs? That should give you a fair picture."

As much as David tried to feign indifference, the boy could tell his host was obviously interested.

"It sounds very nice, Mr Fowl. Have you tried it out yet?"

"Naturally, but only on my own computers. I expect I will need to try it on something of more commercially available specifications though, if I intend to sell it to the general market…"

At that point Artemis had an idea which would benefit all concerned, particularly him, and would probably make for a smoother visit. At least with the father, anyway.

"Perhaps you would like a copy to try out on you computer, Mr Brown. I assure you that it will cause it no problems, although in the very unlikely event that your system is unable to cope with it and damage is caused, I would of course offer generous compensation…"

Artemis watched the man's face carefully. He was used to dealing with powerful businessmen with well-practiced poker faces, and after them this man was like a poster displaying his thoughts. Especially when his face lit up for a moment with interest, and then almost comically straightened itself, lip twitching in its attempt to smile.

"Now that's an interesting thought, Fowl. But here's a thought; what about other software? It won't be compatible, I guess…"

"On the contrary, Brown; the first HuntingFowl was based mainly on Windows and has grown from that – all Windows-compatible software is compatible with HuntingFowl. As far as I know, anyway – I've tested the hundred most popular programs and they have all worked. Microsoft Office programs are fine, obviously, although I am working on a HuntingFowl version of that which will, like the OS, be far superior to the current."

"Not bad, not bad. Alright, I'll give it a go, and you'll fix it or whatever if the machine breaks, right?"

"Naturally," replied Fowl.

"Dinner!" cried Helen as she brought in the watery pea soup. Jenny was helping her carry in the bowls, and the smile on her face reminded Artemis of his own in a rather disturbing manner. His heart sank along with his appetite as he saw his dinner placed in front of him. He murmured a half-hearted "Thankyou" as Helen placed it in front of him, but resolved not to touch it. Or perhaps to touch it, but complain of… delayed reaction travel sickness. Yes. It would be brilliant. Unless Jenny caught him out. But he'd some up with something. He always did.

Artemis watched for when the other people at the table began to eat, and then started on his meal with great gusto. At least, he took one spoonful of soup with great enthusiasm, swallowed it, and complimented the cook.

You're going to burn in hell for that, Arty-boy. It's probably the most blatant lie you've ever told in your life.

Oh, for heaven's sake. Not you again.

I could say the same about you.

I'm not even going to go into the ridiculous logic behind that.

Well, it is after all your logic.

I don't have time for this right now. Why don't you plague me during school or something?

Oh, I'll be there then too, count on it, Arty dearest.

Can't wait. Then again, your mindless blabber is probably more intelligent than what the teacher will attempt to tell me.

While thinking this, Artemis was slowly stirring his soup with a slight grimace on his face. This, unfortunately, attracted Mrs Brown's attention.

"Don't you like the soup, Artemis?" The boy's head jerked up.

"Soup? Oh, yes, it's great…"

"Is something wrong then, de- Artemis?"

"Not feeling entirely well, I'm afraid, Mrs Brown. Delayed reaction travel sickness. Terrible nuisance." Artemis watched his hostess' face carefully. She seemed to buy the story. Her daughter, on the other hand…

"Delayed reaction travel sickness? Does that even exist?" Jenny asked in a very sceptical tone of voice.

"Jenny! Manners, please. If Artemis says he's ill, don't question him. Is there anything you would like, Artemis? Or perhaps you should go upstairs and lie down."

"I think I shall, Helen. So sorry I can't finish your delightful soup. Some other time, perhaps?"

"Of course, of course dear! Well off you go, and if there's anything you need, just call me. I do hope you feel better in the morning – I think you're due to start school tomorrow."

School. Now Artemis really was starting to feel ill. Mindless stupid teachers attempting to fill the diminutive minds of idiots with useless rot. And not even a computer terminal in most classes. Awful.

He excused himself from the table and went upstairs. After a miraculous recovery from his delayed reaction airsickness (a terrible affliction indeed) he retrieved his computer from the suitcase and began to copy a disk of HuntingFowl 3.09 for David Brown.

::::In the Grounds of Fowl Manor::::

A head with a horribly distended jaw emerged from a flower bed, about fifty metres from the front door of the Manor.

"We're close… so close, my preciousss, so close…" hissed the dwarf to his rock Ursula. He had been watching many movies while living the good life in America, and had taken a liking to Gollum from The Lord of the Rings movies. They had such a funny interpretation of elves in those movies though. If only they knew… he chuckled. Although they got the love of nature right. But the robes and long hair... Mulch mentally compared an image of Arwen to one of Holly. It was quite funny really. He'd have to tell her about it sometime. Hopefully she wouldn't be locking him up next time they spoke, though – it always seemed to kill the conversation whenever she was attacking him with a buzz baton. Although, granted, they were working on it. After all, it had become a fairly common occurrence.

Mulch looked up at the house. He still hadn't come up with a brilliant plan, although he had realised that he would have a bit of a chance if he just went to the door, because they didn't generally have guests picked out by snipers, did they? No, he reassured himself, they did not. Leaves a horrible mess on the porch, and after a while blood just doesn't come out any more.

He climbed out of the hole and sauntered quickly to the shade of the row of trees onone side of the driveway.

* * *

Anyway, I hope that wasn't too bad... and I'm very sorry I haven't updated in ages, as I probably said already... oops. Oh well. Please review if you can be bothered! 


	9. Chapter 8

Hello everybody. Here we have a delightfully long chapter, a bit over four thousand words I believe, so I hope you like it. I would have updated with it earlier, but I was in Manangatang. If anyone has ever heard of Manangatang or knows where it is, please tell me (I'm not entirely sure where it is myself) and I shall... well I'm considering the somewhat cliched bag of vitual cookies as a reward but they tend to be rather unsatisfying... tell me what you want and it shall be arranged. You can have a chapter of either this or Undignified Situation dedicated to you if you like. Or Human, but I don't think many people care about that one. Whatever you like, though. Feel free to inspire me for Undignified, as well... the stream of ridiculousness is starting to dry up, although I doubt that this new-found sanity will be more than a very temporary problem. seeks sugar

Oh, and I live in Australia and have no idea of the British school system, so I'm not sure if year 9 is the same here as there. Anyway, the two kids are both 14, and so please substitute the appropriate school grade level where necessary. Sorry about that. Well, enjoy...

**Chapter IIX**

::::Brown Household, Chester::::

Artemis heard a loud knock on his door, which was quickly followed up by what he considered to be an excessively violent method of door-opening being put into practice.

"Alright, Fowl, I'll let that one you pulled at dinner go if you tell me everything you know about physics." Jenny looked very flustered indeed.

"Dinner? I don't remember pulling anything, as you say, at dinner," the Irish boy replied innocently one eyebrow raised.

"I don't want to hear your bull. Are you going to help me with my science prac write-up or not?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure it would be appropriate for me to help. You obviously don't have a very high opinion of my intelligence – why ask me?"

Jenny gave him a death stare. Artemis smirked; it was nowhere near as effective as his was.

"Fine. What the use of having a genius in the house who won't do your homework is beyond me. I guess I'll just have to tell Mum you bullshitted your way out of eating her soup because you thought it was foul."

"Be my guest. She'll think you're lying to make her hate me. And I think you should know; you aren't very good at making up plans. First the delightful soup idea, now this? Dear me," he tutted, eyes glinting.

Jenny's fingers twitched, but she kept them from the awful boy's neck. Not yet, she thought, not yet. She turned to storm out the door but stopped when Artemis spoke again.

"Give me the assignment and the results of the experiment. It should be finished in about ten minutes. And this is only because I am terribly bored, so don't make a habit of it. What grade are you in?"

Jenny frowned. What the hell?

"Okay, just a sec… have to find them first. And why do you want to know what grade I'm in?"

"So that I can use material appropriate to your expected level of knowledge. If I wrote you something like my last physics paper… let us say that your teacher would be rather suspicious."

"What did you write for that?"

Artemis beckoned her over to his computer and pulled up a Word document. Jenny looked at it and could barely understand half the words in it.

"…I see…" she said. Artemis nodded. "Look up Emmsey Squire next time you're online, you'll see this and several other papers attributed to him.

"I don't even want to know," replied Jenny, quite disturbed by the boy sitting near her.

"Bring me the results and I'll have it done for you shortly. I suggest you edit it to sound more like your work though – I am not familiar with your writing style or your usual standard of homework, obviously."

Jenny nodded and left the room. She returned five minutes later with a few pieces of paper, none of which were in a particularly pleasing condition. Artemis took the paper using a finger and thumb and didn't even try to mask the look of disgust on his face.

"_These_ are your notes?"

"Er, yeah. I think there might be something growing in my bag. There's definitely something alive in my locker…"

"Then it's certainly a pity you are not currently studying biology. Mould and other micro-organisms are very interesting to see under a microscope."

"I'll keep that in mind. Shall I leave you to it then?" Jenny went to leave the room, but halted in the doorway as Artemis asked her a final question. Well, repeated an earlier one she had omitted to answer.

"Your year level, Jennifer. Or at least a sample of your other work."

"Oh, right. Year nine. I think something I wrote already is in amongst that stuff I just gave you if you want to see. Oh, and by the way, thanks heaps – this was due yesterday and, well, anyway, I'll leave you to it then, shall I?" Artemis nodded distractedly, already having started on the work, and Jenny left the room.

Artemis was two-thirds of the way through Jenny's physics assignment before he realised what had just happened. Granted, he had only been working for six minutes so far, and optics was one of his current interests, but that didn't excuse the fact that Artemis Fowl had allowed himself to be talked into doing something for someone else. The facts that he was bored, and interested in the subject, and it would only take him a few minutes – they were all irrelevant. Artemis Fowl did not do other teenagers' homework for them. Overdue or otherwise.

Still, the girl might as well have what he'd done so far. Waste not, as some would say. And she had hardly any left to do; he'd written the discussion, and the rest was basically copying from the assignment sheet.

He wondered if she would bother checking through the work to make it sound more like her own. Probably not. But an interesting idea came to him, and his vampire smile returned. He would teach her to ask a Fowl to do useless year nine homework for her.

Artemis went through the discussion section, which was three pages long. He counted twenty words along, then typed 'marshmallows'. Another fifteen words counted, and 'squirrel' was inserted. He couldn't be bothered to count precisely any further, but typed in words such as 'bubblegum', 'southern Tibetan mongoose' (the existence of which he could not confirm, but didn't really care) and the final touch; in the middle of the last paragraph, 'faeries from under the earth' replaced Albert Einstein's name in the description of a theory used. "Sorry, Albert," he muttered, "but it had to be done." He felt sure that Einstein would appreciate the ludicrousness of the concept of faeries living under the earth.

My work here is done, he thought, vampiric grin still in place.

"Jennifer," he called crisply.

"What? You aren't like, finished already or something, are you?" she yelled back, somewhat incredulously.

"I must admit that I am not; however I believe I have done sufficient for you to be able to complete it in a matter of minutes. The discussion is complete, which I imagine is the main thing you required help with, and the only remaining components are primarily those which need only copying. Could you tell me your email address please, and I shall send you the document."

"Wow… cool! Maybe it won't be so bad having you around after all. But email won't work; I'm banned from internet. Got a burner?" Jenny replied as she returned to his room, brandishing a blank CD.

"Naturally," said Artemis, holding out a hand lazily while opening the disk drive on his laptop. The girl handed the disk to him and he quickly burned her homework onto it.

As he handed it back, he said blandly, "I do hope you weren't planning on making a habit of this, Jennifer. You should know that I have no intention of doing your homework for you. I have several projects of my own to work on, and as much as it takes very little time to complete your work, it is, I suppose, a matter of principle."

Jenny raised her eyebrows. "Whatever," she said. "Thanks for helping out tonight though. Science would have been interesting tomorrow if I didn't have this."

"I'm sure it would have been," Artemis replied dryly. And I'm sure it will be anyway if you don't check that discussion, he thought, mentally cackling. "I have two suggestions that you would do well to take note of: read through the work I have done for you, and get your act together. At least by the time it starts to count. What do you do instead of assignments, anyway?"

"Piano. Muso stuff. Had a theory exam last week. You play an instrument?"

"No, it never occurred to me to try. I do enjoy painting, however."

Wow, she thought. It enjoys something other than computing. Weird.

"I did grade eight piano end of last year. Didn't practise much for that though, either. Well, the pieces a bit, I guess, but scales? Got to be kidding. Anyway, didn't do all that well in that because of the scales. Stupid things."

"Indeed. Perhaps I shall try my hand at the piano at some point during my stay. I imagine it would be somewhat similar to typing at a keyboard."

Jenny sniggered.

"You're a funny guy, Fowl. You really never have tried playing, have you?"

"I believe we have already established that," Artemis replied rather nastily, disliking the situation. Proved wrong by _her_? Not the way he had envisioned this conversation to be. "Miss Brown, I advise you to return to your studies. Something tells me that your physics work is not the only item overdue." The girl glowered at him, and he smirked. The upper hand had been returned to its rightful owner. She left briskly, clutching the disk containing her homework, and Artemis re-addressed himself to being bored. He decided to email Butler, to advise his bodyguard of his safe arrival.

::::Fowl Manor:::: (earlier in the afternoon)

Butler and Juliet sat in their living room, supposedly watching TV. Butler, however, was moping too much to pay attention to the show and Juliet had seen the re-run three times already and was now dreadfully bored. She decided to amuse herself in the best way she knew how.

"Come on, Dom, cheer up. Unless you're doing an elephant/fish hybrid impersonation in which case by all means continue, it's rather amusing."

Domovoi grunted but continued his effective imitation of, as Juliet called it, an elephant-fish hybrid. His sister sighed with frustration.

"Well are you up for a fight then? Jade Princess versus the Butler who needs no pseudonym, you pick the discipline."

The Butler who needed no pseudonym grunted again, but then lifted himself off the couch and sighed. "Whatever. You choose. Give me a moment," he replied as he went over to the kitchenette for a glass of water. As he drank it, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," called Juliet as she jogged down the hallway towards the door. Butler followed her slowly, but quickened his pace as she heard her slight shriek.

"Who or what are you?!" yelled Juliet in shock.

"I'll give you a clue. Take a long, deep sniff," replied the creature at the door. Juliet stared at it, then sniffed.

"Wow… you really stink. You aren't coming in here, no way. No stinky mutants allowed. Artemis' orders. Well, not quite, but I'm sure he would have said so if he'd known it would be necessary."

"You think so? I would have thought he'd be happy to see me. Very happy indeed. But I suppose you'd know, Juliet, and is that Butler lurking back there? Good to see you both."

Butler came forward, confused. "You know our names?"

"'Course I do. Good mates, we were. Hopefully still are, just as soon as you remember it. I'll give it time, though. Where's the young master, then?"

"Arty? Gone to Chester. Mother's orders. Not a happy chappy, I can tell you that," Juliet responded.

The three standing around the doorway took a moment to imagine Artemis Fowl the Second as a happy chappy. An amused snort from Butler, extensive sniggering from the creature at the door, and gales of laughter from Juliet could be heard for the next minute.

"So, do you have a name?" Butler asked the creature, moving his sister gently to the side of the door to recover from her paroxysms of laughter.

"Mulch Diggums, at your service, Mud man," it replied, bowing low.

"And you are…" the body guard continued.

"A highly respectable dwarf, although many have debated the matter. I'm from Haven, the Lower Elements. Hobbies include stealing shiny things and running from international law enforcement agencies. Oh, and donating fat to those who suffer near-death experiences and require a bit of cosmetic surgery," the dwarf finished with a slight. Butler frowned.

"Juliet, have we ever met this guy? Dwarf?"

"He seems to smell familiar…" Juliet replied, before returning to giggling. Butler rolled his eyes.

"Look, Diggums, do we know you? How do you know about Master Fowl?"

"Ah, that'll be a long story if you haven't started to remember how it goes yet. Can I come in?" Mulch asked.

"One moment," said Juliet, who sprinted off down the hallway and returned a moment later with a bucket of water, which she proceeded to pour over the dwarf's head. Mulch protested heartily to this treatment, but soon gave up and attempted to shake himself dry on the porch.

"Sorry about that… but you know how it is. Stinky mutants and all that…" Juliet sniggered as the short creature entered, scowling.

::::In Haven::::

"Are those two recon officers online yet, pony?" growled Root over the telephone to the Ops Booth.

"Er, almost… we seem to be having a little trouble with the radio frequency – it keeps changing."

"We? Using the royal plural now, are we, pony? Or should I say, ponies? And are you telling me that you've sent two of my best officers off into a figurative ants' nest with faulty communications? I certainly hope you aren't, my horsy friends. For all of your sakes."

"Well they can't be faulty, I mean, I designed them. Has anything I ever made gone bung on you, Julius? Honestly?"

"You address me as Commander Root, and no, nothing you ever _made_ has gone bung. Things you have designed, another matter entirely. These Folly Laboratories – what kind of technicians build the things? Anyway, no time for that now. You, my dear pony, are going to find my captains, and you are going to find them now. I neither know nor care how you do so, but you are going to tell me precisely where they are when I call back in five minutes or else your budget…"

"Say no more, Commander. I have a plan. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to work," Foaly interrupted, trying desperately to think of some way to avert the overstressed elf's wrath.

"That's what I like to hear, Foaly," the commander replied, and hung up the phone.

Root wasn't really worried about Short and Kelp – they were both brilliant officers, and perfectly capable of scouting around to look for trouble. Still, it was always best to have a communication link to any member of the LEP leaving Police Plaza on duty, just in case. He pulled out a fungus cigar and chewed on it thoughtfully, wondering how Foaly was going to get in touch with them.

Meanwhile, Foaly was doing exactly the same thing, with the minor difference of chewing on a carrot instead of a foul cigar. And he was quite a bit more anxious than the commander was. It was true, he hadn't been supervising the production lines in Folly Laboratories nearly as much as he should have been, and he hadn't yet mentioned to Root that he had a co-proprietor, which accounted for the name 'Folly' rather than plain 'Foaly'.

This co-proprietor was a very secretive character, so much so that Foaly had never actually met him in person. They had had web-conferences with each other, and the other person had supposedly shown his face on a web-camera, but Foaly had reason to believe that it was a sim, due to the businessman's not-quite-real appearance.

Another thing that Root was not entirely aware of was the fact that the designs were not exclusively Foaly's. Foaly of course came up with the prototype and specifications, but sent the design to his colleague before it hit the production line. Perhaps that was where everything had gone wrong. He should have known better than to allow another, inevitably less brilliant, entity to change his designs. Now Holly and Trouble were off in the middle of Frond-knows-where without any communications. Smart one, pony-boy, he thought in exasperation.

::::Elsewhere in Haven::::

"You know what, Holly? I think you had something in that 'free fall' conspiracy theory of yours. My wings are really starting to screw up more than I'd like them to," called Captain Trouble Kelp, wobbling almost comically in the air. Holly snorted.

"Are you sure that isn't just your incompetence?"

This got Trouble's back up remarkably effectively. "I am not incompetent. I am perfectly capable of using normal wings that work!" he yelled.

Holly considered another impertinent retort to this, but the topic got her thinking. Her wings weren't as responsive as they should be, either. They hadn't given her any problems so far, but she could see what her colleague was on about. It struck her that perhaps Foaly had a few misconceptions about his brilliant new Folly Labs. At least, everything she had used from there so far had shown a few problematic effects. For instance, still no communications with Police Plaza.

"Trouble I think we should land, and see if we can get these comm sets to work. At least before we get to wherever we're supposed to be."

"Holly, honestly. If Foaly can't get them to work, do you really think we have a chance?"

"Yeah, but… I think we should give it a try. There might be some random setting or Frond-knows-what that we could fiddle with so that the pony can get through, or something, I don't know. Just a couple of minutes, we won't waste a whole lot of time…" Trouble shrugged and landed on the nearest rooftop clumsily. Holly, to her surprise, did likewise as she attempted to land.

"Whoa… well if the free fallers are screwing up the great Captain Short, then I guess it's okay to be a little ungainly," Trouble joked. Holly looked at him and rolled her eyes, grinning.

"Don't call them free fallers, Kelp. Might jinx them."

Trouble's eyes widened for a moment, then shook his head, saying, "Holly, Holly, Holly. Never picked you for a superstitious one. Just wait until the guys back at the Plaza hear about this."

"A nice time they'll have of hearing it if you're plastered all over the street," she retorted teasingly. "Now, what do you know about non-functional headsets?"

"Absolutely nothing," announced Trouble. Holly nodded in agreement. "Me too. Suppose we could do with a little Mud fellow about now," she added, jokingly, as she fiddled with the dials on her headset.

"Yeah, I heard he was pretty good with LEP stuff. Something about a cube…"

"Ah, yes. _The_ Cube. It was quite an interesting sort of thing, not least the fact that he made it out of a few of Retrieval's helmets," Holly said reminiscently. "Did you ever hear the whole story of the Spiro thing?"

Trouble shook his head, and Holly began to tell it to him as they both fiddled with their headsets. About halfway through the story, Holly happened on a well-concealed dial upon which was written 'Frequency Regulator'. This was moving around, and Trouble pointed out that it was set to 'scan' mode.

"What frequencies does the LEP broadcast on?" he asked her.

"Not a clue," she replied, but put it on a random setting to see what was there. Artemis' 'luck of the Irish' must have rubbed off on her, because on that setting she heard Foaly's frantic voice calling for Captains Short and Kelp.

"Hi Foaly!" she chirped into the mike. "Thought you weren't talking to us or something."

The centaur sighed with relief. "Me, not talk to _you_? Never. I thought I'd lost you. Is Trouble there?"

"Course he is. Just trying to fix his headset, half a mo…" replied Holly as she found the dial on her fellow captain's comm set and set it to the same frequency as hers. Trouble soon had a functional headset and could talk to Foaly as well.

"So, my elfin friends. Anything interesting happened so far?" the centaur asked, the relieved tone still not gone from his voice.

"Not much. Well, we almost got fried by a short-sighted security guard, but we dealt with that okay, no problems. He blew up a billboard though," Trouble said, fiddling with the microphone on his set to make it pick up his voice better.

"Hey Foaly," Holly started hesitantly, "Have you got many people to try out these wings of ours?"

"Nope. Fresh off the production line, like I said. Why? Something wrong with them?"

Holly looked at Trouble, who shrugged and continued. "We aren't sure yet. They might just need a bit of, you know, breaking in. But they're definitely weird. I'm having a few problems, and even Holly's finding them…"

"Unresponsive?" Holly chimed in, not entirely sure if that was the right word but saying it anyway. "And shame on you for picking such an uninspiring name, too. Free fall? I ask you."

Foaly grunted. "I didn't pick that name. My… associate did. And he altered the design, too, which is probably why they take a bit of getting used to. Sorry about that. Have to speak to him."

"Your _what_? Foaly with an associate? That's a first," Holly exclaimed.

"And hopefully a last, too, if he's screwing up your designs," added Trouble.

The two elves heard the phone ringing on Foaly's end. "That will be our dear Commander," the centaur announced joyfully. "And if he asks how I got on line with you, it was my doing. Root's respect for my technical genius is somewhat diminished at them moment."

"Whatever you say, horse-man," muttered the elves as Foaly picked up the phone.

::::In Chester::::

Helen dropped the two teenagers off outside a highschool in Chester.

"Have a nice day, then, Jenny I hope you've done that assignment already. Bye."

Artemis looked at the school. It wasn't very impressive. Not compared to St Bartleby's, anyway. But still, he walked through the gate with some trepidation. No-one here knew anything about him, which would mean they would judge him on his physical appearance, which, as much as he hated to admit it, was hardly intimidating. What was more, there was no Butler. Even though Butler hadn't been allowed on the grounds at St Bartleby's, all the boys there had seen the huge fellow picking Artemis up and dropping him off. And they were fairly stupid, but not that dumb. Artemis had had very few problems with bullying at his last school. He wasn't so sure about this one.

"Come on Artemis," shouted Jenny as she ran past several bunches of people of mixed gender towards a group of girls who were calling to her. Artemis rolled his eyes and followed reluctantly.

"Guys, this is Artemis Fowl. He's a rich kid from Ireland who my mum decided to invite here for some reason. Artemis I think it's time you showed off your _brilliant_ social skills to my friends – tell them about yourself."

"Good morning, _mesdames. _As your friend has told you, my name is Artemis Fowl, and I am, as she said, a 'rich kid'. However, I think we should clarify the term 'rich kid' when used with reference to me. My family is…"

And something made him stop and think. Did he really want them to know his family was probably the richest in Ireland, probably one of the richest in the world? Did they really need to know that? From several years of studying psychology, he had learnt that adolescents were more likely to respect a peer rather than a superior. And anyway, from what his father had said, perhaps it would indeed be wiser not to draw too much attention to himself.

"Yes? What is your family, Artemis Fowl?" asked a girl whose name he didn't know, in what he thought to be an unnecessarily aggressive manner.

"My family is… not particularly wealthy. And none of your concern. Anyway…"

Artemis was interrupted by another girl, this one wearing her uniform in a way he was sure it was never meant to be worn. Nevertheless, she almost pulled it off, if you were into the 'skanky schoolgirl' look, he thought, trying to mask his look of disgust with a cough.

"If your family is so normal, then how come you have Armani shoes, tailored pants, and a fresh manicure?"

What an annoying girl, he thought. She's observant, granted, but openly asking a person if the identity they have just provided is true is terribly bad form.

"I take a degree of pride in my appearance, unlike some people, and it does not take boundless wealth to do so."

Jenny hurriedly changed the subject.

"What lesson do we have first, guys?"

"Maths, isn't it?" suggested the aggressive one.

"Nah, science," replied another girl who had not yet spoken.

"How the hell did you know that, Anna?" exclaimed one of Jenny's friends. Anna laughed.

"Nicked Jenny's timetable. You never know, that could have been why she asked us…"

Artemis raised an eyebrow at this sarcasm, noting that he could have competition in that field.

"Science implies physics, I imagine?" he asked Jenny, who nodded. "Did you go over that discussion last night?" he asked, a hint of vampire smile manifesting itself on his face.

"Uh, yeah, I glanced at it…" the girl replied distractedly.

"Was it to your satisfaction?" he continued. She nodded, trying to find it in her bag. It emerged, miraculously devoid of plant matter. Artemis hoped that the teacher would mark it during the lesson.

The bell rang, and Artemis followed his host student to her science class, as he had been instructed. He arranged his features to convey to even the most unevolved mollusc that he was dreadfully bored, and greeted the teacher in this way. She gave him a somewhat frightened look and then proceeded to ignore him, as the principal had not yet informed her that the boy would be joining her class. About twenty minutes after the bell had ring, most of the class had arrived and she began the lesson.

"Today, class, we shall be looking at some proper scientific papers written by the noted Emmsey Squire. There is a comprehension based on the article at the front of the booklet which you may or may not find on your desk. In the event that you do not find it on your desk, please see me and I shall give you one. Jennifer, please see me. Hurry up class; what you don't finish in this lesson will be homework."

Artemis groaned as he saw the article in front of him. He had written it when he was nine, and was now rather embarrassed about it. Of all the ghastly things this stupid teacher could have chosen to teach them…

He watched Jenny walk up to the teacher's desk and hand over the assignment. The girl then returned and sat at the desk next to his, the only one left. How she had managed to be twenty minutes late even after he had followed her into the class when the bell went astounded him, and he resolved to pay more attention in future.

"What were you saying about this Squire fellow last night?" she asked him.

"I am he, Jennifer. He is I. And I wrote this ridiculous thing when I was nine. Don't tell anyone, though," Artemis replied bitterly.

Jenny stared at him, then looked at the article before her. She could, in truth, understand quite a few more of the words in this one than in the other paper she had seen the previous night, but it was still amazingly complicated. She looked back at him, and shook her head.

"Now what are the chances of that," she said.

"Jennifer, could you please come here," the teacher called over the noisy class. The girl frowned, got up and walked over to her teacher's desk, wondering what the woman wanted.

"You seem to have a few… er… typographical errors, here in your discussion," was what Artemis could hear of the conversation.

"I do?" Jenny replied uncertainly. The vampire smile came out again. It widened as Jenny read the assignment and shot a malevolent look at him.

"I'll… fix these," the girl said, choked with rage as she took the assignment and turned away from the teacher toward her desk. Artemis didn't even bother to stop smiling (vampirically, of course. Vampirically? Anyway, you understand...). He wondered what kind of ill-thought-out revenge the girl would attempt upon him this time.

* * *

Now, my preciousssssssss, we wonders what Jennykins is going to do to Artykins, doesn't we? Yesssss... and we wonders what we will write next for the story too, doesn't we... ah... we means, we have planned this story well and has it all prepared... yessss... we has fooled them, haven't we, precioussss...

Ahem. Anyway, if we... I... haven't scared you off yet, please review if you can be bothered. I do so love receiving reviews. Even oh-so-funny flames, although I'm sure merciless critic will soon take care of that... sniggers... anyway. If you don't know what I'm talking about, read my reviews of Undignified Situation. So yes... even the slightest problem I will try to take note of, but I won't know about it if you don't tell me, so please do.


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